Fleur De La Mer
by MsCalypso
Summary: Fleur Delacour: Quarter-Veela, Airhead, miss Popular, getting by on her looks. Fleur has had enough. Participating in the Triwizard Tournament, she'll show everyone exactly what she's capable of. At least that was the plan. But then she met Hermione.
1. Chapter One: The Triwizard Tournament

**A/N This is my first ever published fanfiction. While this will be a mostly Fleur/Hermione centered fic, there will be several other POV's. The storyline will stay as close to canon as possible starting from the Goblet of Fire. This will be a multi-chapter fic, I have already planned out most of the story, all I need to do is write.  
**

**A big shoutout to Peeves' Best Friend, who has been the most amazing Beta you can possibly imagine, and has helped me through way more than I care to admit. I would also like to thank xtonguetied, who always pushes me to write more. **

**DISCLAIMER: Credit where credit is due: JK Rowling owns the entire Potterverse.**

* * *

**FLEUR DE LA MER**

**CHAPTER ONE: The Triwizard Tournament**

**FLEUR (Beauxbatons Castle, August 31st)  
**

Fleur Delacour was staring out of one of Beauxbatons' windows right into the pouring rain. She was standing alone in the dimly lit Great Hall of the magical institution. Tall for a seventeen-year-old, with her silvery blond hair flowing freely beside her face effectively hiding her delicate features, she was still wearing the muggle clothing she preferred over her wizarding robes. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the person walking up next to her.

"Fleur," the older woman said, snapping the girl out of her thoughts.

"Maman? I thought you had left already." Fleur said, glancing sideways at her mother.

"Not without saying goodbye to my little girl." the woman smiled and pulled her daughter into a hug, letting go once she had pushed a string of blond hair behind Fleur's ear. "So, au revoir ma belle, and take care."  
Apolline was already halfway towards the doors when Fleur managed to call after her.

"Wait! That's it?"

"What do you mean 'that's it'? Isn't this how we always say goodbye?" The woman answered, raising her eyebrow slightly, and even though Fleur couldn't see that in the shadows, she recognized her mother's tone of voice.

"You were in Madame's office for so long, I thought..." Fleur hesitated. "I thought you might have something to say, about the tournament."

Apolline sighed deeply "It is your wish to compete Fleur, not mine, but your father and I support you. You'll do just fine, I have no doubt in your abilities."

"I don't want to do fine," Fleur said calmly, "I want to do great. I want to _be_ great."

"I already know that you are great Fleur, I just think now is not the time to go off adventuring." The older Veela shook her head and looked rather displeased with her daughter.

"Maman..." Fleur started.

"Bon, we've discussed this multiple times already, doing so again now won't make a difference anymore. Do your best, ma fille." Apolline said before turning around, the sound of her heels on the marble following her until she had long since disappeared into the shadows of the castle.

Fleur was left alone, standing in the cold and empty Great Hall. Her shoulders sank a little when she realized her mother was leaving the school. They had arrived a day earlier than the rest of the students, for her mother wished to speak with the headmistress in private. Fleur had paled at the idea, seeing as her mother was known to be quite persistent and had shown her disapproval for Fleur's wish to participate in the Tournament during most of the summer. So naturally, Fleur had been worried that at the end of that meeting, she was no longer going to Hogwarts. She had begged her father to let her go to the school alone, to convince her mother to leave it all be, but he had just looked at her with understanding and pitying eyes.  
Her parents, not agreeing with the whole Tournament idea, had tried to convince her to stay in France, but Fleur desperately wanted glory, and being of age, she had signed the consent papers long before she had informed her parents of the decision. Which, in retrospect, had not been such a good idea.

"Bah, I hate this rain." She bitterly said out loud, and yet in two months she'd be leaving for a country famous for its horrible weather. Glancing one last time at the rain, she turned around and left the hall in favour of the far more comfortable common room. Although it wasn't particularly cold this time of year in the south of France, the stormy weather up in the Pyrenee mountains made her shiver in her thin clothing.  
Not for the first time Fleur found herself wishing she'd taken one of her sweaters out of her trunk, but stubborn as she was, she pushed the idea to the back of her head. Three flights of stairs later, she dropped into a comfortable leather couch near the fireplace the house elves had lit in preparation for the nearing arrival of the school's students. It took a long time to warm up the entire castle, even in summertime. As she had nothing to do, Fleur took out her advanced charms' book, reading ahead on some of the spells she would learn during the year. Honestly, she did already know most of them. She was known as a good student among her peers, actually, the best. Fleur Delacour was the number one student in her year and she had worked hard to beat every single one of the non-believers who thought she'd receive favoritism because of her heritage. It was that heritage that made her stand alone among all her friends. It was also that heritage that made her who she was.  
The quarter-Veela sighed, her attention was everywhere but with charms.

"Mon Dieu! Can you believe how boring this chateau is when empty?!" Her little sister complained loudly while dropping in the armchair next to Fleur's.

"Oui." Fleur smirked, laughing at her sister.

Gabrielle was one of those people who were at their happiest surrounded by people, she was completely different from her sister in that way, who regularly preferred it to spend some time alone, instead of in the company of drooling people who agreed with everything she said.

"Why do you have to leave Fleur?" Gabrielle sighed desperately. "With you spending time on that blasted island, you'll miss out on all the fun here!"

Fleur frowned, closing her book

"Fun? You call this place fun? It's boring ma petite, that's what it is." Fleur said sternly to her sister.

"How can Beauxbatons be boring?! You are the most popular girl in school! Do you know how exhausting it is to be the sister of the _amazing_ Fleur Delacour?" Gabrielle rolled her eyes mockingly.

"Well, then you should be glad I'm leaving, n'est-ce pas?" Fleur flashed a teasing smile at her sister, showing her perfect teeth and reaching over to engulf the younger girl in a big hug. Gabrielle crawled desperately trying to get out of the hug, but being five years younger, she didn't stand a chance and just gave up after awhile.  
Her arms hanging awkwardly beside her body, she muttered:

"Fleur, are you going to let me go yet?"  
"Non."  
"Fleur!" Gabrielle complained loudly.

"Fine, but don't start sending me letters that you miss my hugs when I'm in England." Fleur grinned, and let go.  
Gabrielle glared at her sister, smoothing the wrinkles out of her brand new blue robes, muttering curses under her breath. After a while she noticed Fleur staring intensely at her.  
"What?" She asked.

"Why are you already wearing your robes?" Fleur frowned. "School hasn't officially started yet, you know."

"Oui je sais." Gabrielle looked slightly embarrassed. "It just felt wrong wandering around in my normal clothes. As if Madame Maxime would appear any minute around the next corner and give me detention for not being in uniform…"

Her sister started laughing loudly, shattering the quietness of the castle and Gabrielle grinned uncomfortably too. Fleur knew her sister well enough that she would probably be in detention somewhere during the first week. Gabrielle had a knack for getting in trouble, and didn't have Fleur's eloquence or patience to talk her way out of it.

"As if detention would have any effect on you." Fleur smiled, and she knew she would miss her sister terribly, but the excited butterflies in her stomach remained. They had not left her since she made her decision to participate. Yes, this would be the year of Fleur Delacour, what other option could there be? She knew her dreams would come true.

**HERMIONE (Platform 9 3/4, September 1st, 11.00 am)  
**

The Hogwarts Express creaked, huffing and puffing, it slowly put itself into motion. Suddenly the platform was nothing but white steam, leaving Hermione Granger barely able to see the Weasley's while she waved them goodbye.

"I don't know why you even bother." The boy with the red hair said beside her. "It's not like they can see you."

"Yes, Ronald, but it's the gesture that counts. Your family let me stay over for a long time this summer, in case you forgot." Hermione said, ignoring his tone.

"How could I? I was there now, wasn't I." Ron Weasley said grumpily. "Now do any of you know what the bloody hell is happening at Hogwarts this year?"

"Err - no." Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, shook his head. "We know as much as you, remember?"

"Which is nothing," Ron complained loudly. "You know, Bagman wanted to tell us, at the World Cup, remember that? But my own mother won't say a word."

"They probably have a good reason for not telling us." Hermione said, while taking the _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4,_ out of her rucksack. "If something is happening at Hogwarts we are bound to find out anyways. I mean, we'll be there in less than a day."

"If this year is going to be at all like the last three, it'll probably find me out before anything else." Harry said jokingly, causing Ron to laugh.

"I don't think you should joke about your ability to always get in trouble, Harry." Hermione looked up disapprovingly from her spell book. She didn't believe how unlucky her friend was. First the philosopher's stone, second a gigantic murderous snake and third there had been the soulless, creepy looking Dementors next to the tiny, even creepier and _also_ murderous rat. A year without murderous anything would be fun, Hermione thought. An easy, quiet year was all she wanted.

"Oh blimey Hermione, can't you take a joke!?" Ron laughed, "And what are you reading that book for already? We're not even at Hogwarts yet!"

She glared at the redhead, making his smile shrink a little and she was glad to see that her glares hadn't lost any effect over the summer.  
"You know I like to finish my books before lessons start, Ronald, and I still have to _start _on the final chapter so leave me alone so I can get it done." Delicately she turned a page, careful not to crumple the parchment while it still had that new book smell.

Harry intervened right before Ron was about to loudly protest against Hermione's tone. He placed his hand upon his friend's shoulder and grinned.

"If I were half as dedicated to Quidditch as Hermione is to her studies I could probably beat Krum by now."

"No way mate!" Ron smiled instantly. At the mentioning of Krum's name, he completely forgot his issue with Hermione.  
"No one can beat Krum! He's the best bloody seeker in the world! Did you know he still goes to school? Oh man.. If only he went to Hogwarts.."

Behind her book, Hermione smiled fondly at her friends arguing over Quidditch. Some things never change, she guessed as she read up on the Summoning Charm. Realizing happily that she was finally allowed to use magic again, she quickly took out her wand and made the Summoning movement beside her body, softly whispering: 'Accio Krum puppet.'  
To Ron's surprise, the puppet he was using to reenact the Wronski Feint flew out of his hands right into the hands of Hermione. The stunned look on his face was enough cause for both Harry and Hermione to start laughing uncontrollably at their friend.

"Ron! You should see your face!" Harry's smile widened broadly, punching his friend in the shoulder.

Hermione threw the puppet back to Ron while he, still stunned, asked:  
"How did you do that 'Mione?"

"Summoning Charm" She smiled, happy that it worked, but not _really_ surprised. She was Hermione Granger after all.

"Blimey, how is it that you are able to do that without practice?" He looked at her with admiring eyes.

Hermione smiled at the compliment from the redhead. She wouldn't admit it, but it filled her with pride. "It's called studying Ronald, you should try it sometime." She teased him.

"Yes Weasley, you should try studying, maybe then you wouldn't be such a useless wizard."

She hadn't heard the door of the compartment slide open, yet when Hermione looked over towards the source of the new voice, she came face to face with a slyly grinning Draco Malfoy. He was already in his school robes, and he'd obviously come looking for a fight. His enormous cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, were standing next to him, desperately trying to look imposing to the trio in the compartment. Naturally their scruffy looking robes didn't really help but their size did, and they stared down menacingly at the trio.

"Go away Malfoy." Harry simply said, not interested in an argument.

"I don't feel like it yet, Potter. Maybe in a minute." Malfoy grinned slyly  
"You're not going to enter, are you Weasley? You need to be a half decent wizard for that."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione, while glaring at Ron to keep calm, his ears already slightly red.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you? Well we don't need to worry about you, Granger, being the sensible one of this little.. 'group'.."

"Enter what?" Harry snapped at him. "Either explain it to us or get lost Malfoy."

A mocking smile spread across Malfoy's pale face and having seen that smile a million times before, Hermione knew an insult was coming next.

"Oh, you don't know, do you?" He sneered while looking at Ron. "I can't believe it, you have a brother and a father in the Ministry but yet you don't know. Well I can't say I'm surprised, actually. They might be a little too low-level for that information. But hey, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."  
Malfoy sighed, turning to Harry.  
"Do me a favor, Potter, and enter. I've been waiting for a chance to get rid of you."

Laughing he left the door opening and disappeared into the crowds of the train, Crabbe and Goyle following him a few seconds later, obviously confused by the rather rapid departure of their glorious leader, Draco Malfoy.

The second they were out of sight, a frustrated Ron hit his fist hard against the wooden wall behind him, causing the people in the neighboring compartment to start banging the wooden wall in return.

"Ron!" Hermione said concernedly, not paying attention to the noise "Don't let Malfoy get to you!".  
"Him? Getting to me?! As if." Ron snarled. "Don't fuss over me Hermione."

Ron's foul mood may have set the tone for the rest of the train ride to Hogwarts, although Hermione had to admit that the quiet was good for her reading. Fortunately, the food at the welcoming feast instantly improved Ron's mood. His face opened up in joy as he saw the sheer amount of drumsticks in front of him.

"How is it mate, that the sight of a full plate has this effect on you?" asked Harry while already trying to get tomato sauce off his fresh set of robes.

"Food is good." Ron said, loading a mountain of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"You're at your happiest when you're full, mum always says. And she is right."  
As if to put power behind that statement, he stuffed his mouth with the mashed potatoes.

"I still can't believe all of this is made by house elves." Hermione frowned disapprovingly. "Slave labor! At Hogwarts! How can Dumbledore stand for that?"  
She pushed her plate away from her body out of protest, the disgust clearly visible on her face.

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "They like working 'Mione. It's all they know. Now eat, you won't be helping them by starving yourself."

Hermione, about to fire up in protest, got cut off by the sound of her own rumbling stomach. She turned bright red, seeing Harry and Ron grinning at her.  
"Fine." She bit. "But this won't be the end of it!"  
She didn't want to admit it, but secretly she was happy Ron told her to eat. She had been starving ever since the whole Malfoy commotion. But she was Hermione Granger, she had principles to uphold. Unless she was dying of hunger, which at this point she really was.

The three of them enjoyed the meal, happily catching up with their friends and classmates that they hadn't seen for two months. Hermione even had a conversation with Lavender and Parvati, which was a small miracle considering the amounts of arguments the three had had over the course of the last year.

When the last person in the Great Hall finished eating, the head master stood up from his seat, immediately silencing his students. His eyes having their famous twinkle, he looked content to see his school filled with students again.

"So." He boomed brightly. "Now that we have all filled our bellies, I'm afraid I must ask for your attention. First of all, Mister Filch has asked me to inform you that certain new items made the list of forbidden objects, bringing the total count to a stunning amount of some four hundred and thirty-seven items. The list now includes Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs, so if you have some in your possession, I suggest you get rid of them tonight!" His twinkling eyes seemed to rest upon the heads of the Weasley twins for a moment.

"Like hell we are." Hermione heard Fred whisper.  
"We bought them for a reason." George added.

"I would also like to inform our new students, and remind some of our older ones, that the Forbidden Forest is called forbidden for a reason, and is still off bounds for _all_ students, as is the Hogsmeade Village to all below third year." Dumbledore continued his speech.

Hermione saw Harry grinning at Ron, who was looking rather pale on the bench next to him, still remembering the spiders that they had met deep in the forest two years ago.

"Now, unfortunately I must also inform you that the Quidditch Cup will be cancelled this year."  
"This - THIS." Dumbledore raised his voice to reach over the thundering sounds of protests in the hall, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October and take up most of the year."  
He smiled widely at his students.  
"I am very proud to tell you all that we have the honor of hosting a competition that has not been held for over a century, it is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"No way!" Ron whispered excitedly, his eyes fixed upon the headmaster's figure.  
"What is the Triwizard Tournament?" asked a confused Hermione. "I have never heard of it."

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established around seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Wait, people _died_?!" Hermione whispered alarmed.  
"Shhhhht. I'm listening!" Ron cut her off.

"Now, after careful deliberation, both the Ministry of Magic and the three participating wizarding schools have decided to give it another try. A selection of students from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute will arrive somewhere in October, and at Halloween an impartial judge will decide which students are worthy of representing their schools. These students, champions if you will, will compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons in personal prize money."

"I'm totally going for it!" Ron hissed excitedly, his face lit up with enthusiasm over the prospect of a potential thousand Galleons. And he was not the only one enthused with the idea of being the Hogwarts champion, all over the Great Hall Hermione could see people whispering ferociously to their neighbors, but when her eyes came to rest upon Harry, she could not help but frown in worry as she could see him staring at the headmaster.

Dumbledore raised his arms, asking for silence, and the sound died down immediately.  
"Now, even though many of you are eager to participate, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year, for your own safety. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration."

The cries of outrage, including the one from Ron, quickly died down again when Dumbledore asked for attention once more.

"We believe, that because of the dangerous and challenging nature of the tasks, it is unlikely that younger students would be able to cope with them. Now, I will personally be ensuring that no underage student tricks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion, for I am sure that many of you would like to try."  
He grinned at Fred and George's faces, the discontent among the twins clearly visible.

"Well, that's it! Classes start tomorrow so, pip pip, off to bed!"

Before Dumbledore could sit down, the sound of scraping benches filled the hall. And slowly, but surely, it emptied, leaving only a few students behind. Among those students were two ferociously whispering red head twins standing between the tables.

Ron bowed over to Hermione and Harry and whispered  
"At least they can't participate either, they are turning seventeen in April, that's still months away."

"Little brother, we are so glad that education at Hogwarts taught you the difference between October and April." Fred dropped beside Ron on the bench.

"Yes, how else can we be completely sure that we are, in fact, below the age limit." George sat down next to Hermione, looking ironically at his brother."But don't worry, we won't let this stand. It's not fair, they are not stopping us from entering." He continued, and for the first time you could hear the anger in his voice.

Fred nodded. "Exactly."

A snort came from Ron's direction. "Oh, you're not actually entering are you? Haven't you heard? You're not _old _enough!"

The twins looked intensely at Ron, "Unlike you, Ron, who seems to be stuck at the mental age of five and could never convince _anyone _that you're worthy of participating, we are sure that we can let the impartial judge see it our way." started George.

"What are a few months anyway? Everyone knows we are smart enough to pull it off, besides, 1000 Galleons? It's worth a shot" Fred continued.

"Anyways, Harry, what about you? Do you want to join us and enter the Tournament? Unlike Ronald here, you might stand a chance." The twins grinned.

"What'd you say?!" Ron jumped up in anger, his ears burning bright red.

"That's our cue to leave, give us a shout if you are interested, will you Harry?" Fred winked and the twins left the Great Hall with a fuming Ron glaring after them.

"I don't even know why anyone would want to participate." Hermione stood up from her seat. "It sounds dangerous."  
They all started walking towards the exit, among the last to leave the Great Hall behind, taking the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

"Yeah but .. a thousand Galleons.. " Harry said wearily. "I understand why people would be tempted."

"Not to mention the glory." Ron said dreamily as he jumped over a trick step on the stairs, a few seconds later they heard Neville scream cause said trick step disappeared beneath his feet. Hermione shook her head, after four years he still forgot about them.

"I wouldn't mind a life on the sidelines this year though. It'd be fun to have no one trying to kill me for once." Harry said quietly.

"Yeah well, if there is someone who doesn't need any more glory, it's you mate." Ron grinned, stopping before the portrait that was the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. "Anyone know the password by a chance?" He asked, immediately turning towards Hermione.

"Balderdash." The girl sighed, not surprised at the question. "A prefect told me downstairs."

"Correct" The fat lady in the pink dress said, and her portrait swung open, revealing a hole in the wall. Hermione climbed through first, delighted to see the cozy and circular common room again after two months of summer. She couldn't help but smile at the two bickering boys who followed her. She'd missed Hogwarts, that was for sure, but she couldn't help but worry about the upcoming Tournament. She knew that the redhead would try to enter, and he could see her frown as he stood next to the fireplace, warming his hands.

"Something wrong?" He asked her.

Hermione gave him a tiny smile. "Just tired Ronald, I think I'm going to bed."

"Yeah okay. Goodnight 'Mione."

"Goodnight Ron, 'night Harry." She yawned as she took the stairs to the girls' dormitories. When she reached her floor, she pushed open the door with the brass number four on it, seeing that Parvati and Lavender, her roommates, were already sleeping. Quietly she slipped into her pajamas, and snuck under the covers of her bed. Twisting and turning, she stared at the ceiling

Oh for crying out loud, she thought, why does it have to be this year. I hoped to actually get some studying done. But no, for once no one inside Hogwarts is trying to kill Harry, and that's when Dumbledore actually invites people for a crazy murderous tournament? I swear to Merlin, if he tries to enter..

Tired of the long day, her last thought was about her successful performance of the Summoning Charm.


	2. Chapter Two: Hogwarts Awaits

**A/N Once again a big thanks to my Beta: Peeves' Best Friend. I don't know how I would ever crawl out of all of my errors without you.**

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**FLEUR DE LA MER**

**CHAPTER TWO: Hogwarts Awaits**  


**FLEUR (Beauxbatons Castle, October 29th)  
**

It had been a horrible day for Fleur. A truly horrible day.  
First, she had spent the entire morning in the company of the Venomous Tentacula, which had been desperately trying to strangle her from behind with every chance it got. Obviously, the plants didn't succeed, but they did manage to rip her robes while aiming for Amélie, who was stupid enough to try and hide behind Fleur. What kind of reaction was that for a witch? Why not just curse the plant to hell and back? No, instead the annoying girl jumped behind Fleur.  
This meant that she would have to spend her evening trying to figure out how to sew that rip back together. Fleur Delacour did _not _sew things back together. She should have recognized that as an omen for the rest of the day.

Secondly, lunch had been awful. The house elves had managed to put food on the table that was clearly not meant for eating. Fleur didn't know exactly _what _had happened in the kitchen, but it certainly couldn't have been good.

And as if all of that wasn't enough yet, her normally very interesting Transfiguration class had been completely and utterly boring. So boring in fact, that she had trouble keeping her eyes open. For all she knew, a bomb could have gone off and she wouldn't have noticed a thing.

To sum it up: ripped clothes, horrible food, boring afternoon. This was definitely not Fleur's day.

So there she was, sitting in the dining hall, waiting for Madame Maxime to show up so that they all could finally start with dinner. Fleur was starving, and her mood had dropped to new depths.  
It was safe to say that the look in Fleur's eyes at the moment could kill, yet it was not the eyes people were worried about, but her thrall. The quarter-Veela knew she was giving off some serious vibes, and guessing from the look in poor Matthieu's eyes two seats further, he was close to passing out. The poor boy always had been easily affected. Fleur's eyes flew across the table, resting on Amélie. She was secretly pleased to see that the girl had sat down as far away from her as possible.

"Thank God! I'm still on time. Maxime would've never let me leave detention if I'd been late for dinner _again_!"  
Inès dropped in the seat next to Fleur's, sighing deeply and looking slightly disheveled.

"What happened to you?" Fleur asked, looking at her friend.

"Fournier made me stay after class, he was not too happy with me setting my desk on fire, remember." Inès sighed despondently.

"Quoi?! How did you do that? And where was I?" Fleur frowned, trying to remember.

"Asleep, probably." Inès grinned. "He was not too happy with you either, he wants to see you in his chambers tonight. And do you know you are flashing thrall in like, every direction? And it's not even your nice, usual thrall, the one that simply makes people drool.. No.. It feels very angry."

Suddenly people stood up all around them, and Fleur and Inès hurried to rise as Madame Maxime staggered at a frighteningly fast speed through the great hall towards the staff table. She was scowling intensely and as she marched on, she tried elegantly balling her fists. Or as Fleur saw it, failed at looking elegant at all.

"She looks about as happy as you." Inès whispered amusedly.

"Mademoiselle Martin, please keep your comments to yourself." Madame Maxime snapped as she passed the girls. "And mademoiselle Delacour, I know you aren't that good at controlling your thrall, but do try reeling it in a bit. You're affecting your classmates."

Inès sniggered beside Fleur, not caring about the reprimand and instead laughed at the gasps around her. Madame Maxime didn't reprimand Fleur in public very often. When the headmistress sat down, so did her students, and she clapped in her hands. Suddenly, the tables were filled with food.

Fleur ate slowly and elegantly, obviously distrusting the food after the whole disastrous lunch incident. Luckily, as if to make up for what they'd done earlier that day, the house elves had put an extremely delicious dinner on the table. Her hunger slowly disappeared, along with her horrid mood, and the atmosphere got a little less tense at Fleur's table. The people around her started laughing and talking and even poor Amélie dared to look at the quarter-Veela again. But not for long, and it made Fleur smirk as the girl still didn't dare meet her eyes.

Changing her attention to the girl sitting across the table, Fleur asked: "Julie, have you made a decision yet?"

The blonde smiled at Fleur, swallowing her food before answering. "Oui. I have." She said softly, looking at Fleur.

"You're staying.." Fleur said, instantly hiding the disappointment she was feeling.

"What?! Why? Oh come on Julie, you'll be missing out on so much fun!" Inès interrupted before Fleur could say anything else. Which, as Fleur thought about it, was a good thing as she was quite perplexed with Julie's decision.

"I'd rather spend my year here, studying, than over the Channel trying to get killed in that Tournament." Julie smiled apologetically at her friends. "I told Madame Maxime earlier today. I think that's why she's in such a foul mood. She needs to find my replacement before you all leave for Hogwarts."

"And that's in a day."

"Yeah" Julie nodded. "You better start packing."

"Ha." snorted Inès. "Fleur probably never even bothered to unpack!"

The people around the three girls sniggered at that remark. All of Beauxbatons knew of her hopes to become its champion by now. The rumours in the hallways were currently taking a rather favorable pro-'Fleur as champion' turn. The negative whispers were far outnumbered by the massive amount of positive support. While a total of forty students would go to Hogwarts, no one else had so openly proclaimed their desire to take part in the tournament, and no one else was known as well as Fleur around the chateau.

Fleur sighed at the peoples amusement at Inès' comment. Of course they had been listening in. The times she had had a private conversation in this place, she could count on one hand. And it was exhausting to have so many people hanging around her. It was exhausting that they would never leave her alone.

Matthieu, still sitting two seats further, was finally shaking off the effects of Fleur's thrall and looked at her admiringly. Fleur knew what he saw. Sparkling, deep sapphire blue eyes, silvery blond hair, stunningly sharp looks, She could have him any time she wanted. A mocking smile played around her lips when she winked at him. He started blushing ferociously, and a teeny tiny part of her felt bad, before her attention got drawn back to Inès arguing loudly with Julie and Isabella about the effects of a good fire.

".. Well I didn't even know it was burning until it was too late." Inès said only slightly remorseful.

"You should have tried to put it out at least, instead of grinning at the flames. You looked like a maniac." Isabella Velasquez frowned, her Spanish accent barely noticeable. Not always agreeing with everything Fleur said, she was one her more likeable classmates and they got along nicely, though their friendship was not going that deep.

"Oh don't be such a spoilsport. That class was boring anyway, Fleur even fell asleep." Inès sighed deeply at the lack of support from her classmates.

"You do look like a maniac sometimes Inès." Fleur agreed with Isabella, still feeling Matthieu's prying eyes on her back. Maybe she shouldn't have winked.

"I do not!" Inès said indignantly. "if there is anyone occasionally looking like a maniac, it is you, Delacour, whenever you are staring menacingly into nothing at the windy top of Les Escaliers de l'Ange!"

Fleur snorted. Whenever she was going crazy, she took the long stairs all the way to the top of the highest tower of Beauxbatons Castle, affectionately called Angel's Stairs by its inhabitants. Built into the Pyrenean mountains, the tower gave you a clear sight into both France and Spain. It was the perfect spot to unwind, according to Fleur, who liked to read atop of the tower, to escape the crowds below every once in a while.  
There were some advantages to being Fleur Delacour, one of them being that it had become some sort of unwritten rule to leave her alone atop les Escaliers. Unfortunately, every year, again and again, it was a struggle to keep the first years off of the tower. Maybe that had inspired her to adopt a permanent scary look whenever she was there. Which was not nearly as often as she wanted to.

She wondered if she could find a place like that at Hogwarts. She doubted it though, with students from all three great wizarding schools there, it had to be pretty crowded. For their sake, she hoped she wasn't forced to read in their library. Libraries, while filled with infinite knowledge, were also very dusty.

Dinner was soon over, with Madame Maxime staggering off into some small hallway behind the staff table, and Fleur quickly got up. No matter what her friends had to say, she still had to pack some things.

"Remember! Fournier expects you in his office at eight!" Inès called after her friend, but Fleur pretended not to hear. She had better things to do. A quick glance at her silver watch proved her wrong. No one could afford to simply ignore a professor's summons. Not even Fleur Delacour. That meant having to charm her clothes to fold into her trunk tonight. And somehow fixing that bloody cut in her robes. Disapprovingly, she stuck her fingers through the fabric again while walking the path towards the professor's office.

She softly knocked on professor Fournier's thick wooden door. When she heard an affirmative 'yes', she turned the brass doorknob and entered the professor's chambers. Fournier was sitting behind his desk, close to a gently burning fire in the right corner of his office. He was reading some kind of letter and he waved Fleur to come closer.

"Close the door and sit down, mademoiselle Delacour." He said, without looking up.

Pulling the door back in its lock, Fleur walked over to the desk and sat down in the wooden chair across from Fournier. When the professor finished reading, he took off his glasses and looked at the quarter-Veela in front of him.

"I'm sure you know why you are here?" He asked softly but sternly.

"Non." She answered curtly, not bothering to be polite. Her fingers were still touching the annoying hole in her robes. She hated imperfection.

"Miss Delacour, you fell asleep in my class. You may be one of my better students, but that does not excuse you to simply take a nap whenever you feel like it." Fournier sighed in dismay.

Fleur flashed a smile and stood up.

"We are not done here, Delacour." Fournier said curtly.

"Je suis désolée monsieur. It really wasn't my intention to fall asleep in your class. I just felt so.. tired." said Fleur charmingly.

Fleur looked to her transfiguration professor and smiled when she saw his eyes turn glassy. He slowly leaned back in his chair, still looking at the quarter-Veela with slightly empty eyes.

"I'm so sorry monsieur, it will not happen again." She flashed her teeth again, he probably wondered how they could be so white.

"Oui.. Oui. Just this once then." Fournier said slowly, words hard to find.

"Can I go then?" Fleur asked politely. When no answer came, she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "Monsieur?"

"Oui.." He nodded vaguely, thoughts all over the place.

Fleur grabbed her bag and turned around, her silvery blond hair dancing behind her. It was the last Fournier saw of her before she closed the door.  
She whistled while walking through the hallways of Beauxbatons castle. Controlling her thrall in a specific way was new, she liked it. Maybe today wasn't too awful after all.

"What did Fournier say?" Inès asked when Fleur dropped onto her friend's bed an hour later. She snuggled beside her friend and smiled at the ceiling.

"Oh, you know, nothing special." She grinned. "Something about not sleeping in his class."

"Oui," Inès sighed. "You ready for tomorrow?"

"All packed, can't wait. A shame Julie can't come though." Fleur said dreamily. "I wonder who is going to replace her."

"I heard Jacques Gaillard got the spot, which is weird because I thought he rejected the offer before summer. Something about not wanting to risk his life."

"Gaillard? Vraiment?" Fleur frowned instantly "Last time I saw him he was still practicing a simple summoning charm."

"That's just because you don't pay attention to anyone. He's gotten quite good actually. Well, he's a pureblood after all, has to live up to the family name." Inès grinned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fleur asked darkly. "He has to be good since he is a pureblood?"

"Oh come on Fleur, don't be like that, you know what I mean. He probably has to live up to daddy's standards." hushed Inès.

"Yeah sure" Fleur said, and got up.

"Where are you going?" Her friend asked. "Curfew starts in half an hour. You better be in bed by then. Tough day tomorrow, Maxime wants to go by carriage. Remember that crash last year?"

"Merde. Instead of simply apparating." Fleur growled, ignoring the fact that that was not an option "Always trying to impress with flying horses, that headmistress of ours. Anyways, don't worry. I'll be back on time."

The quarter-Veela smiled on the inside, knowing that Inès knew she lied and yet said nothing. Her normally very loud roommate and best friend knew when to keep quiet. Fleur needed her moments.

She started to wander around the castle, taking in the sights, avoiding the most obvious routes to the second year dormitories. The chateau was so quiet at night, so serene. She was going to miss it, but adventure and glory were awaiting her over the horizon.

Quietly, she sneaked into her sister's dorm room, slipping her hand over Gabrielle's mouth to make sure she wouldn't wake anyone. When her little sister started to squirm, she let go.

"Fleur!" the little girl hissed, "What are you doing here?!"

"You didn't think I would leave without saying goodbye, would you?" Fleur whispered smilingly. "Come on, let's go." She stood up swiftly and silently made her way towards the exit.

Fleur was surprised when Gabrielle didn't move.

"What is it? Too cold outside of your bed?"

"Fleur.. it's not that I don't want to, but I have been in detention thrice this month alone.. Maman is furious with me already. I can't risk getting caught again." Gabrielle whispered, the disappointment clear in her voice.

"Oh ma petite. I'm sorry, I should have thought about that.." Fleur spoke sadly. "I wanted to spend some time before I left for England, show you some places.." She sat down beside her little sister, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"I'll miss you." Fleur whispered, and kissed her sister's forehead. "Don't do anything too stupid and write me whenever you can, okay?"

Gabrielle nodded and the two Delacour sisters hugged one last time, before Fleur slipped back into the night. Tomorrow there would be no time for a true personal goodbye.

Hours later, the sunlight on her face forced her to wake up earlier than she had planned. Way earlier.  
This was a problem. As Fleur knew far too well by now. Once awake, the French witch could never fall asleep again. She groaned loudly in frustration, and stared at the ceiling above her bed. Today was the day. Today was finally the day. She got up and silently moved towards the door of the adjoining bathroom, careful not to wake up Inès, who was lucky enough to still be sleeping like a baby.

Half an hour later, and freshly showered, she opened the doors to the empty dining hall. Not even bothering to be elegant when no one was around, she dropped into a chair, grabbing a croissant and reaching for a can of coffee the house elves had left there only moments earlier. Slowly, she started eating her breakfast, and after a while other students bound to leave for Hogwarts, started to enter the hall. It was nearly six-thirty now, and judging by their faces, that was too early.

The doors of the hall opened once again, and a panicked looking Inès appeared through them, wearing a strange ensemble of both muggle clothing and their Beauxbatons uniform.

"What on _earth_ are you wearing?" Fleur raised an eyebrow and looked at her friend. "You better not let Maxime see you like this."

"Those idiotic house elves have already taken away our luggage to the carriage, and yesterday evening I was stupid enough to put my dress uniform in it." Inès cursed, relaxing a bit after seeing that there were no teachers around. "Now I had to make do with what was left in the room. Which, as you can see, wasn't much."

"If I were you I'd go looking for it. Now." Fleur sipped indifferently of her coffee "We're leaving in less than an hour."

"Aren't you going to help me?"

"I'm having breakfast..."

"Fleur!"

"Fine, fine, let's go." Fleur sighed, she guessed there was no way around it.

They showed up just in time for departure, Inès looking grateful in Julie's slightly too tight, borrowed robes, Fleur looking annoyed for cutting it so close.

There, in the courtyard, stood a carriage the size of a large house, drawn by Beauxbatons' gigantic flying horses. Because it was so early, few people came to say their goodbyes, and the courtyard was nearly empty except for a few professors.  
It was hard for Fleur not to smile when she passed professor Fournier. He refused to look at her and instead stared at the sky.

They quickly climbed aboard the carriage, ignoring their headmistress' disapproving stare. It was not the first time Fleur entered, but like all other times, she was slightly stunned by the sheer size of the inside of the carriage. They were standing in a large, slightly curved, open central room, it's height reaching all the way to the top of the carriage. Left and right you could see the several floors ending in hallways all centered around the room. In the middle of the central hall, there was an open fireplace, and around it were a dozen comfortable couches. Further in the back there were several tables and light fell in through the glass ceiling of the hall and the several windows in the back and front.

Fleur quickly took the stairs on the right to the third floor and started walking towards her room. She left Inès behind, secretly a little glad that she would finally have a room to herself again. She had been slightly pissed off at the beginning of the year, when she wasn't given the best student chambers of the castle, as was her right as the top 7th year student. But after Maxime had patiently promised that she would have the top students rooms in the carriage, she had quickly calmed down. It was true, after all, that she was spending her year at Hogwarts, and not Beauxbatons, so she had no need for the chambers in France. She had swallowed her pride, and shared a room with Inès for the first two months of the year.

Fleur entered her room, and was glad to see there was already a fire burning. Yes, these chambers would do nicely. Swiftly leaving the small, but comfortable living room behind her, she entered her bedroom, and noticed her trunk at the bed end. She smiled, and laid down on her bed. The smell of fresh sheets excited her, but not as much as the small thud indicating the carriage had started moving. If everything went by plan, they would arrive at Hogwarts at 6 o'clock, right on time for dinner.

A couple of hours and a nap later, Fleur was enjoying a book by the fire when she was disturbed by a knock on the door. The person opened the door without waiting for permission, but Fleur swallowed her protests when she realized it was the headmistress.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, can I come in?" Madame Maxime asked politely.

Fleur nodded and the headmistress had to bend her neck a little to fit through the doorway, the carriage had obviously not been made with her in mind. Maxime closed the door behind her and sat down in an armchair across from Fleur. They both stared at each other in silence.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Maxime asked curtly.

Fleur hesitated at the tone of the headmistress's voice.

"Find out what?" She asked confused.

"You used your thrall on a teacher. A _teacher! _What on earth where you thinking?" said Madame Maxime angrily. "This is unacceptable behavior Fleur, even for you. You are lucky that you are such a good student, or professor Fournier would have asked for your expulsion, and I would have gladly agreed to it. Did you even think about the consequences?"

Fleur Delacour's mouth was dry and she couldn't do anything but stare at her headmistress. Merde_, _she thought, merde_. _

"Your heritage has been difficult enough to tolerate for some members of the school board already. If you start using your thrall like this it won't be long or they'll be screaming until we never allow Veela in again! How could you do this? Well, it doesn't matter. This is the last time that happened or you will be expelled."

Fleur scowled, but, given the situation, decided against speaking up.

"Your privileges are withdrawn for a month. You will abide by curfew and I expect you in my office every Friday, for detention. You can consider this a formal warning."

Madame Maxime stood up and started walking in the direction of the door, with her hand on the doorknob, she spoke up one last time.

"Don't ever do something stupid like that again. We have an image to uphold, you and I. For someone who has always claimed that you are more than just that part Veela, I am surprised you want people to think you would so easily abuse your powers."

Madame Maxime left with an elegant swirl of her robes, closing the door behind her and leaving Fleur sitting on her own.

Okay so maybe using my thrall wasn't such a good idea, Fleur thought, but I didn't really think it would work. I mean, it never has before.. Well great. Now Maxime's pissed, I don't get to order food in my room for a month, and I have bloody detention. Brilliant way to start Fleur, really brilliant.

She scowled, stood up, kicked the chair in front of her in anger and closed the book she was still holding. Realizing the possible food problem, and because it was way past lunch time, Fleur swiftly left her room in order to look for the kitchen. Obviously smaller than the one they had at Beauxbatons, the kitchen in the carriage was only meant for light meals and snacks. It had been made clear that they were going to eat together with the Hogwarts students. Of course, some had complained when they realized that, claiming the English couldn't possibly allowed to be in charge of cooking, but Fleur wasn't about to complain now, if it was going to jeopardize her already rather unstable footing she was on with Maxime.

The problem with the kitchen on board, was that it was literally on the complete opposite site of the carriage from Fleur's room. Now, normally, this was no issue, but with Maxime withdrawing privileges left and right, she couldn't just summon a house elf and asked them to bring her food, no, she now had to walk the distance. Naturally, this didn't help one bit with the already dark mood that she was in. Having all of that going on, the dark haired male student blocking her path never stood a chance.

"Hey Delacour, how are you?"

"What is it Gaillard? I'm in a hurry." Fleur bit out shortly.

The angry tone in her voice made Jacques Gaillard hesitate, but the pureblood was not generally one to back down, so he bravely continued on.

"I was wondering, considering the Tournament and all, if you wanted to practice together with me sometime. I need a new sparring partner and you're good. Maybe we could even grab a drink after. I heard there is a little village near Hogwarts, I could take you there." Gaillard asked slyly, smoothing a wrinkle out of his otherwise perfect dark blue uniform.

Fleur looked at him, and smiled politely. "I'm sorry, I already have Inès as my sparring partner. She'd probably kill me if I left her to spar with herself. Coincidentally, I'd kill myself if I don't get to eat something soon and the kitchen is _that_ way."

She tried to walk beside past him, but he blocked her path.

"I'm sure mademoiselle Martin could find someone else." He smiled insistently. "Even so, I could still take you out for that drink."

"Look Gaillard, I'm hungry and really not into the whole 'let me buy you a drink with daddy's money' I have my own gold for that. Let's talk later, yeah?"

Fleur pushed him aside and considered the conversation over when he stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"What is your problem, Delacour? I'm just asking, you don't have to go all Veela on me." He bit.

"And I'm just telling you _no._" Fleur scowled, freeing her wrist from his hand.

"Come on, just one drink. That's all I'm asking for." He pleaded one last time.

"I'm not interested Gaillard, not now, not ever. Find someone else to bother because you are starting to annoy the crap out of me. Leave me alone or you'll regret it." Fleur said with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"What are you going to do? Use your thrall on me like you did on Fournier? Maybe my father was right when he said I shouldn't bother with a filthy halfbreed."

Fleur paled at his biting reply, resisted the urge to slap his smiling, triumphant face and instead stormed past him to find the kitchen. Realizing only when she arrived that this day had made her lose all appetite. And here she thought that going to Hogwarts was going to change everything. She really didn't seem to be able to catch a break. It felt as if this trip was doomed already, But when she looked through the window, and saw a large castle appear on the horizon, she felt like tomorrow might be better after all.


	3. Chapter Three: Four Champions

**A/N Big time thanks to my amazing Beta again. (who honestly needs to get back to his own story but refuses to listen to me)**

* * *

**FLEUR DE LA MER  
**

**CHAPTER THREE: Four Champions**

**HERMIONE (Hogwarts Grounds, October 30th, 05.46 pm)  
**

She may have been wearing her thick winter coat, gloves and a scarf, but Hermione was shivering. It was freezing outside, and of course everyone was late. All she wanted to do was to go back inside and finish her essay on potions, but no, she had to stay until the very last foreign student had arrived. Honestly, Hermione didn't get what all the fuss was about. So what if the Triwizard Tournament was this year, it wasn't as if anyone she really knew, could participate.  
Yes, Ron was freaking out, hysterically trying to find ways to enter, and Harry might have been eerily quiet about the subject for the last month, but she knew in her head, that she was not nearly as excited as the next person was about the whole thing. People _died_ the last time, but everyone seemed to forget that.

"I wonder how they will get here." Ron said. "Train? Flying cars? Or maybe portkeys?" He rapidly summed up ideas, realizing quickly that none of them made sense.

"Probably broomsticks," Harry guessed. "Or maybe they'll Apparate."

She opened her mouth to tell everyone that Apparation wasn't possible on school grounds, but why bother. Not like anyone ever read _Hogwarts, a History._  
Hermione sneezed. The cold was getting to her.

"Bless you." Harry said, turning to her.

But then his attention got drawn to the weird shape appearing over the horizon. Someone yelled something about a flying house, but she snorted. As if. Instead, it was a gigantic pale blue carriage, drawn by a dozen gigantic winged horses. It neared the ground with tremendous speed, and for a second there, she feared for the foreign students' lives. But then, with an almighty crash, it somehow landed safely on the ground.

All around her people jumped up in surprise, not expecting such a spectacular landing. Neville even landed on some Slytherin's feet, which was the worst reaction ever, but Hermione didn't bother. She wondered though, how something like that could fly. It had to be charmed some way. Maybe she could ask professor Flitwick later. It would be nice to know how you could make things fly. Maybe she could enchant Harry a broomstick or something for Christmas. Although on second thought, maybe she could just give him a book. Yes, a book would be good, he had a broom already. And you can never have enough books.

The door of the carriage opened, and a dark haired boy in dark blue robes jumped out, fumbled a bit underneath the carriage, and folded out a set of golden chairs. He quickly jumped aside respectfully, dodging the enormous foot that stepped outside of the carriage.

"Okay she's huge." Harry said astonished, after seeing the woman belonging to the foot.

"Harry! Shush!" Hermione whispered disapprovingly and started applauding after Dumbledore loudly proclaimed the woman to be Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons. While Dumbledore welcomed his French colleague, Hermione's attention got drawn to the lot of shivering Beauxbatons students, standing in their headmistress' shadow. If Hermione was a little cold, they were probably dying from it.

Well if I wore silk in these temperatures, I'm sure I'd be dying of frostbite too. Hermione thought. Not one coat? Seriously? At least some are wearing something vaguely resembling a scarf. She shook her head, not believing their stupidity.

She watched as a girl wearing a muffler frowned at the castle, not realizing that her schoolmates and headmistress were slowly heading inside. She realized when someone yelled something in French at the girl in the muffler that French really wasn't her language. But instead of waiting for the girl's reaction, she frowned deeply when she heard Harry talking to Ron about Hagrid's skrewts.

We may have had biting books last year, but at least they only had one way to kill us, she thought.

"Maybe the skrewts escaped. It would explain Hagrid's mood." Harry grinned. "And the state of his fingers."

"Oh please don't say that Harry." Hermione said with a shudder. "Imagine them loose on the grounds.. I'd probably refuse to leave the castle and Malfoy would have a field day."

"My father will hear about this!" Harry said mockingly causing Hermione to snicker.

The Durmstrang students were apparently not in a rush, because now everyone was freezing and about done with patiently waiting. If it wasn't for professor McGonagall's piercing eyes, most probably would have left for the warm Great Hall by now. So they were just standing there, waiting, more than a little bored.

But then a great rumbling sound coming from the lake caused a commotion among the rows of students. Ron blocked her view, and Harry was stretching his neck just trying to see anything, and at this point Hermione didn't care anymore. So when Harry said something excitedly about a mast, and she could see a ghostly ship slowly rising out of the lake, she realized dinner was beckoning. After the Durmstrang ship had emerged completely, a splash of an anchor hitting the water resounded over the lake, and people started embarking slowly. They all looked like they were at least the size of Crabbe and Goyle, and she feared for the future Hogwarts champion already.

Oh well. At least Harry is too young.

A man covered in fur and with rather yellow teeth walked up to Dumbledore, greeting him heartily, but Hermione couldn't listen to what they were saying because suddenly Ron yelled out beside her.

"Bloody hell! Is that Krum?"

**FLEUR (Hogwarts Grounds, October 30th, 06.00 pm)  
**

So it may have been a bit colder than she expected, a _lot _colder, but there it was. Hogwarts. Finally. There were two things that went through Fleur's mind when she stepped out of the carriage.  
First: Now that is a large castle.  
Second: I need a coat or I'll die here._  
_She stared in awe at the castle in front of her. It was bigger than Beauxbatons Chateau, much bigger. Which didn't make sense because Beauxbatons had more students, still, Hogwarts was a larger castle and to Fleur it looked amazing. The sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon, making her first real view of the castle a really impressive one. She frowned, realizing that although this was her home for the year, she didn't get to actually sleep in the castle.

"Fleur! Viens ici, Madame Maxime t'attends!" Inès yelled at her.

She realized her fellow students had already left the cold and entered the castle through the front gate. Quickly, she started walking after them, readjusting the muffler she was wearing. By now she was incredibly grateful Gabrielle gave the hideous thing to her. She followed Inès inside, and walked through the large stone hallway, passing an immense wooden door, and entering Hogwarts Great Hall. Although floating candles weren't really her style, she couldn't help but love the enchanted ceiling. Eyes fixed in awe on the ceiling, Inès laughed when Fleur walked into the nearest table. She cursed. Did she leave her elegance in France or something?

"Very elegant Fleur, but please, leave the tables be? And will you please take off that awful muffler and sit down?"

"Really funny Inès. Really funny." Fleur scowled and sat down beside her friend at the second table to the left. "Are we allowed to sit here?"

"Oui, someone told Gaillard we could."

"Vraiment?" mocked Fleur, still very much annoyed with the pureblood.

"Oh don't start. Regarde! They're coming in!"

The voices of excited people reached Fleur's ears long before she could actually see anyone. But then a crowd of people entered the Great Hall, and started filling the empty seats. Most of them were wearing long black robes, with certain colour accents and were loudly speaking in English.

But she could also see the blood red robed Durmstrang students making their way through to a table. Apparently the colour coding was there for a reason because colours sat down together at separate tables. Everyone wearing a blue-ish tie sat down at the table all the Beauxbatons students were already sitting at, red was sitting to her left, yellow to her right and the green-tie-people sat all the way to the right.

Looks like they can't just sit down wherever they want to, Fleur thought, how weird.

There was this huge fuss about where those from Durmstrang were going to sit, and she could hear a collective sigh coming from the tables next to hers when they chose the far right table instead of the far left and she could hear the name Krum several times. The red ties complained loudly. It seemed like they didn't get along with the green ties. Remembering what she had read in _Hogwarts, a History_, red versus green, Gryffindor versus Slytherin was an age long battle. No wonder they were separated by two other tables.

She could already feel people's prying eyes on her back. There were so many Beauxbatons students, yet Fleur felt like all of Hogwarts was staring at her.

Now I'm definitely not taking off the muffler, she scowled inwardly.

"I think they are taking a liking to you." Inès whispered laughingly. "I have to say, you look very stunning today, are you trying to make an effort?"

"Tais-toi!" Fleur snapped annoyed. "I don't need this right now."

She really didn't after the whole Fournier debacle. Maxime was going to kill her if people started to stumble over their own feet simply to please Fleur.

"It is a very impressive castle isn't it? Looks a little cold though." Inès continued.

"Will you please just be quiet?"

Out of the corner of her eye Fleur noticed Madame Maxime entering beside the headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, and from what she was guessing, Igor Karkaroff from Durmstrang. She quickly leapt to her feet, as did the others from Beauxbatons, and together they ignored the strange looks and whispers and laughs they got from the students of Hogwarts. After their headmistress was seated, they swiftly sat down again.

"So what was that with Gaillard? I heard you slapped him." Inès whispered to Fleur while Dumbledore was left standing on his own.

"I did _not_ slap him! Who said that?"

"I think Magritte told me.. Not sure though. Anyways, what did he do?"

"He tried to ask me out, now please will you shut it, Dumbledore is welcoming us."

Fleur ignored a bristling Inès. and returned her attention to the headmaster up front. He had a large silvery beard, was wearing purple robes, and while you could barely see it, you just knew that he was smiling widely.

"Hello everyone." He boomed brightly "It is my great pleasure to welcome all of our guests tonight, to Hogwarts."

Inès leaned towards Fleur. "He asked you out? Really? What did you say?"

"Really?" Fleur retorted. "He is an idiot. I said no. Now let me listen."

"I don't know why he tried. As if he could ever get you, he still eats his boogers." snorted Inès.

Fleur couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Jacques of the old and noble house of Gaillard eating his boogers. Only once she's managed to stifle her laugh, did she notice the disapproving frowns she got from the English students. Oh hell. They all just thought she had laughed at Dumbledore.

"Merde" Fleur cursed. "Merci beaucoup Inès."

Suddenly, the table in front of her was filled with food, which seemed more or less like the same system they had a Beauxbatons. There was a huge variety of different dishes, the house elves had obviously gone all out to please the guests and she was glad to see that they hadn't simply stuck to English food. She stared at some of the unfamiliar dishes. That did not look delicious at all.

"What is zat?"

She pointed to a dish and asked a Hogwarts student sitting nearby. The girl, surprised to hear one of the foreign students speak English, didn't answer immediately and a handsome boy sitting next to the girl spoke up instead.

"It's black pudding." He said, smiling at Fleur and only Fleur. "You may know it as 'blood sausage'. Some people find it a delicacy." He reached out over the table and offered Fleur his hand.

"Hi. I'm Roger Davies."

She shook his hand lightly and said "Fleur Delacour."

Deciding against seeming disinterested and instead doing a little effort to get along with the English, she flashed a smile at the boy.

"Isn't it a little too warm to wear a muffler inside?" He winked at her.

"Per'aps I should take it off?" Fleur smiled and took off the muffler.

Immediately after doing so, she knew she shouldn't have done that. Her silvery hair dropped elegantly beside her face, giving off a glow, and several people around her stopped eating. The boy, Roger Davies, got a distant look in his eyes, and although he had opened his mouth, no words came out. Fleur sighed. It was to be expected, she guessed. Instead of continuing the by now useless conversation with the equally useless boy, she turned to Inès sitting beside her, joking with some of her classmates.

"I saw some bouillabaisse a table further. Do you want some?" She asked in French, hastily trying to get away from the drooling boy and the awkward stares. After receiving an affirmative nod, she stood up and walked over to the nearest table. She stretched her neck, looking over the heads of the students, and saw a untouched bowl.

**DUMBLEDORE (Headmaster's Office, 10.33 pm)  
**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat down satisfied in his office chair. All things considered, the evening was a success. Although it is always difficult to get used to new people, he was glad to see some of the foreign students had mingled with his own.

"I told you it was a good idea." He smiled warmly at Professor McGonagall, who was sitting in front of him.

"What was? The tournament? Because I am still not sold on that whole idea. Besides, I just _know _that those Weasley boys are going to try something stupid." McGonagall frowned, clearly thinking about the most recent Weasley-incident.

"Oh no, not the tournament, the different dishes!" Dumbledore grinned. "I told you placing only a select few at certain locations would force the students to walk around and talk to others."

Minerva McGonagall sighed. "Yes yes. It worked. But Albus, you think the age line will be enough protection? Many younger students will try to cross it."

"Oh don't worry about that. Lemon drop?" He dismissed her worries and offered a bowl filled with the sweets to his colleague. She refused, as expected, but he just smiled and took one for himself.

"If you don't want to talk about the tournament, fine, but we do need to have a discussion about Alastor Moody. I heard from Hermione Granger that he demonstrated the _Unforgivables _in his class. A _Fourth _Year class!" McGonagall said in disbelieve.

"Yes, but on spiders Minerva, not on students. And the Unforgivables are part of their curriculum this year." Dumbledore sucked on his lemon drop.

"Well I still think it is not something you do in class." McGonagall stood up from her chair. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight Albus."

"Sweet dreams." He smiled kindly and watched her go.

After she had closed the door behind her, Albus Dumbledore was left alone in his office. From out of his window he could see the lights go out in the Beauxbatons carriage and the castle around him went quiet.

"Well, this will be a special year, don't you think?"

The portraits around him all agreed.

**HERMIONE (Library, October 31st, 10.55 am)  
**

On Halloween, the morning after the foreign students had arrived, the castle was buzzing with excitement. Lucky for Hermione though, the excitement was mostly located in the Entrance Hall, were you could find the Goblet of Fire.  
Harry and Ron had gone off immediately after breakfast, to watch people enter their names, and rumours of Fred and George's beards had spread faster than they had actually grown the beards.

Hermione, on the other hand, didn't feel like spending her Saturday watching people and had instead sat down in the library surrounded by possible reads. She had walked in around opening time, smiling at Madame Pince, and had taken several books out of several sections with her to her standard table. After making herself comfortable, which was not a problem in those seats, she had opened the first book and started to work her way through 600 pages of legal definitions.

She still could not believe that Professor Moody had demonstrated the killing curse in front of his students, and, dismayed as she had been, she had gone to Professor McGonagall. Only to be dismissed as if the dark arts were nothing. Well, not if she had anything to say about it.

"Excuse me, is zat Unforgivable Curses And Zeir Legal Implications?" A voice behind her said. "Ze librarian told me zat you might 'ave it."

Annoyed at being disturbed, anyone at Hogwarts knew you don't disturb a reading Hermione, she turned around and saw the girl who Ron swore was a Veela smiling at her. Yesterday evening, she didn't see much of her, but now she could see that the girl was indeed very beautiful with delicate features and stunning blue eyes. Still, she did not feel any of the effects she had vaguely felt during the World Championship. But on the other hand, she knew people did not tend to have teeth that perfect. Her parents were dentists after all.

"Uhm. Yes, yes it is." Hermione said, still a little dismayed when she remembered how the girl had laughed at Dumbledore. You don't mock your hosts.

"Will you be needing it much longer? I need it to write an essay for Madame Maxime." The girl said, looking very serious

"Yes." Hermione said quickly, stumbling over her words. "I mean, no, no, you can have it right now. I'm just looking for some kind of proof that my professor really does have the right to demonstrate the Unforgivables in class. You know" She hesitated "Legal wise.."

Cursing herself for sounding a little confused, she quickly closed the book and handed it to the blonde girl, who promptly sat down opposite from her.

"You mean your professeur actually used ze Unforgivables? On students?" The girl frowned, not opening the book she got from Hermione but instead choosing to continue the conversation.

"What? No. On spiders! But still, I don't see why that should be allowed." Hermione said sternly.

"Ah, oui. I understand. I'm Fleur by the way." the girl said holding out her hand "Fleur Delacour."

"Hermione Granger"

They shook hands quickly and sunk back in silence. Instead of trying for a conversation Hermione simply grabbed a new piece of parchment and a quill, and started doing her homework for her next Potions class. That homework wasn't about to write itself, no matter what Ron and Harry thought. But, she realized after writing only a couple of lines, she simply wasn't able to focus.

"For what class do you need to write your essay?" She asked Fleur, who was scowling at the book, ferociously turning the pages.

"Ehm." Fleur said, looking up, "It is not really a class.. More like.. 'ow do you say.. detention?"

"Detention?" Hermione said in surprise, for some reason not expecting it from the pretty girl in front of her. "What did you get detention for?"

"Ah, you know, some'zing stupid." Fleur grinned. "But now I 'ave to write a detailed essay on Unforgivable curses."

The bushy haired girl smiled, which was weird, she normally scolded Harry and Ron senseless for getting detention. But somehow, the cheery mood of the French girl was contagious.

"So 'ave you put your name in ze Goblet yet?" Fleur asked.

"Ah, no. I'm only fifteen, besides, I wouldn't want to enter even if I was allowed. Did you do it yet?"

"Non. Maxime wants us to do it all toge'zer." sighed Fleur "Some'zing about.. protocol, I don't know. You look older zan fifteen zough, more mature."

"That must be the lighting in here, it makes everyone look older." Hermione smiled, she liked it when people thought she was older than she looked. She tried to brush some unruly hair out of her face, but failed miserably.

"So I look older 'zan seventeen in 'ere?" grinned Fleur "And I wanted so desperately to keep zis age forever!" She dramatically flicked her blond hair, with a mocking look in her eyes.

They laughed together, until Madame Pinch angrily told them to keep it down. If it were up to Pinch, laughter was banned from the library _forever_. Hermione quieted down immediately, she didn't want to risk getting kicked out after all. She took that risk more than she wanted to already, when she brought Harry and Ron along with her.

Fleur on the other hand scowled and muttered something in French Hermione couldn't understand. But the look on the girl's face was obvious, she did not like being told what to do.

A quick glance at her watch told her she was already too late for her meet-up with Harry and Ron. She grabbed her things and stuffed them in her bag, ignoring the confused look she got from the French girl.

"I'm so sorry, I have to go. Good luck with your essay." She hesitated and then added "Let me know if you need help."

Fleur Delacour broadly smiled her perfect teeth at the witch in front of her. "I will, 'zank you. And if I find any'zing surrounding ze use of Unforgivables in class, I will tell you."

"Thank you, it was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you too 'Ermione." Fleur grinned.

Hermione rushed out of the library, she had not expected to find the French witch in the library, let stand that she would actually enjoy having a conversation with her. Then again, maybe even the mighty Hermione Granger suffered from prejudices sometimes. She walked quickly, taking the stairs down three steps at a time. Recklessness agreed with her, she thought, but then she lowered her speed again, careful not to fall. Images to uphold and all, Hermione Granger does not fall.

"So anything good happened while I was in the library?" Hermione asked when she reached Ron and Harry who were still sitting close to the Goblet of Fire. It was quite frankly unbelievable that hanging around in the entrance hall was all they had done during the day.

"Fred and George had beards." Ron chuckled.

"I heard" She laughed. "I wish I could have seen that."

She really, really wished that she did. Even if it was only to confirm that she had been right all along. Dumbledore never would have been so stupid as to forget about aging potions. But no, when she said that, people dismissed the idea. Physical proof, people always need physical proof. She'd better remember that.

"Did anything interesting happen in the library?" Harry asked, eyes still fixed on the Goblet. "I can't believe you were in there all day."

"As if." snorted Ron. "It's the library, nothing interesting happens there!"

Hermione just smiled. She wasn't too sure about that.

"Let's just go to the common room, guys."

**RON (Great Hall, 06.16 am)  
**

Harry was puffing, trying to empty his plate, but the look on his face said he was about done. So was Hermione, who was leaning backward as far away from the food as possible. Ron on the other hand, was stuffing another piece of chicken into his mouth.

"Two feasts in two days, and you are still eating." Hermione said. "How do you even do that?"

Ron grumbled something, swallowed his chicken, and smiled at his best friends.

"I was hungry. What am I supposed to do? Not eat?"

Harry patted his friend on the back.

"You're right mate. Just let him finish eating, Hermione." He winked at her.

But suddenly the food disappeared off from the tables and Dumbledore announced that the Goblet would be releasing the names of the champions any second now. Anxiously, Ron turned his attention to the Goblet. He didn't care much who would be the champion for Hogwarts, as long as it was no Slytherin. He was pretty much fine with it being anyone but a Slytherin. Well, if he was honest, he would be happiest if he himself were the champion, but he knew that that wasn't an option so he just sat back and watched the show.

Then the flames inside the goblet turned a bright red, and a piece of parchment flew out of it, right into the air, only to be grabbed by Dumbledore moments later.

"Durmstrang's champion will be.. Victor Krum." The headmaster said solemnly, looking around the room for the famous Quidditch player.

"No surprise at all!" Ron yelled happily through a storm of thundering applause.

In awe Ron watched how the large Bulgarian got up from his seat and silently moved towards the next chamber, where the champions were supposed to await further instructions.

The noise died down and the flames turned red again, releasing another piece of parchment.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour." Dumbledore announced.

Next to him, he could hear Hermione gasp and Harry poked him, yelling something about her being the Veela girl in his ear. As if he couldn't see that for himself. The beautiful blond stood up gracefully, and walked out of the Great Hall, disappearing in a flash of silvery hair. Ron was too stunned to pay attention to the third piece of parchment that flew out of the Goblet, but when he heard Dumbledore announce the third champion, his ears went bright red.

"No!" He said loudly. "For Merlin's sake, not Cedric bloody Diggory." He turned to Harry. "He might even be worse than a Slytherin!"

If anyone from Hufflepuff had heard him say that, Ron would probably have been punched in the face, instead, the cheering was so loud, that even Hermione and Harry barely heard what he had said.

"Oh well mate, it's better than Malfoy." Harry clapped along with the rest, obviously not bothered by Diggory's election as champion.

"Malfoy is not old enough." hissed Ron through his teeth.

He could hear Dumbledore trying to make a speech, but suddenly the flames in the Goblet turned red for a _fourth _time. The whole great hall went dead silent as another piece of parchment came out. Ron watched how Dumbledore grabbed it, read it, and frowned. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he read the name on the fourth piece of parchment out loud.

"_Harry Potter"_

He blankly stared at his best friend sitting next to him.

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet." Harry whispered ferociously . "You know I didn't."

Dumbledore called Harry's name again, ushering him to come to the staff table and join the other champions.

Hermione gave Harry a little push, whispering something in his ear and his friend got up and started walking awkwardly towards the front of the Hall, only to disappear through the doorway of the next chamber.

It was only after most of the staff had left for the other chamber too, that the students in the hall spoke up at the same time. But Ron didn't listen to the noise, nor did he hear the questions from his fellow Gryffindors all around him.

"No bloody way." He said disbelievingly "No bloody way."


	4. Chapter Four: Jealousy and Pride

**A/N: Here I am again. Chapter four all ready to go. I hope you will enjoy this chapter and I would like to thank all of you who show an interest in reading Fleur De La Mer. Trust me when I say that I really appreciate it!**

**A BIG thanks again to Peeves' Best Friend, who after all, is the most amazing Beta and friend I could have.**

* * *

**FLEUR DE LA MER  
**

**CHAPTER FOUR: Jealousy and Pride**  


**FLEUR (Beauxbatons Carriage, November 1st, 08.03 a.m.)**

The first thought Fleur had when she woke up, was about never drinking firewhiskey again.  
After she had gotten back from the meeting with the other champions, including Harry Potter, she had staggered back to the carriage in annoyance. Only to be surprised by Inès and her fellow classmates for a celebration. While some where obviously really disappointed about not being elected champion - like Jacques Gaillard, who had not shown his face for the entire evening - others had been really happy about Fleur's election.  
Lianne Richard, not exactly known for her kindness, had even come to congratulate Fleur. But that might also be thanks to Inès' ability to smuggle alcohol under Maxime's nose.

Nonetheless, Fleur really cursed herself for letting it go that far. Wine, she could handle, she was French. But firewhiskey might have been a step too far. The last thing she could remember was something about vowing to defeat Krum in Quidditch. Not that Fleur couldn't fly, but she was no world champion Quidditch player.

She got up, her head hurting, and when the light hit her eyes, she reached for her nearby wand and aggressively waved it around so the curtains would close. Realizing it was Sunday, she simply fell back in bed and tried to return to sleep. Which - even though she was exhausted - proved to be immensely difficult.

A couple of hours and several glasses of water later, Fleur felt like new again. Unlike her classmates, who were still doing a pretty good impression of brainless Inferi. Ignoring the mess in the common room of the carriage, as the house elves would clean it up, she grabbed her dark blue long-coat.

Thank god I remembered to bring one, Fleur thought as she swiped her blond hair out of the collar.

Breathing in the fresh air, she decided against going to the castle, and started exploring the grounds instead. It was a beautiful day really. The air was crisp, the sun was shining, and you couldn't see a cloud in the sky. It was almost like a French day in autumn. Almost. If only the rays of sun had more power.

Walking by the lake, she could clearly see the difference between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. While Beauxbatons was all neatly trimmed gardens and shimmering fountains, Hogwarts clearly went for structured chaos. She didn't know which one she preferred. There was a certain edge to structured chaos that she liked.

Suddenly she stopped walking. A few yards ahead of her, she could see the fourth champion, the Boy Who Lived, arguing with the girl she met yesterday in the library. Remembering how they had indeed sat together at the welcoming feast, she realized that they had to be friends.

Fleur frowned, still not clear on what to think of the whole extra champion situation. She remembered last night. Everybody screaming at each other, everybody arguing, and yet Harry Potter had been eerily quiet. The only thing he _had _said, was that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet. She didn't know if she could believe him or not, Madame Maxime clearly didn't, but the stunned expression he had on his pale face did speak for him. Nonetheless, she had been pretty upset with him and the whole situation, so upset even, that she had lost control and called him a little boy. If he hadn't thought she was arrogant after the whole Dumbledore-speech-debacle, he probably thought so now.

She sighed. Whether he had done it or not, she had one more rival to worry about. And yes, that was an issue. As if Krum wasn't enough cause for worry. And Diggory! Merlin, she kept forgetting about Diggory.

The argument in front of her eyes had come to an end with The Boy Who Lived storming off to what Fleur now knew as the Owlery. Hermione Granger, the girl who was willing to spend an entire day in the library just to prove her professor wrong, was left standing by the side of the lake.

Fleur started slowly walking in her direction, but before she could reach the girl, she had already started moving towards the castle. Fleur scowled. She had actually hoped to talk to her.

**RON (Gryffindor Common Room, November 1st)**

Ron Weasley was scowling by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. He hadn't seen Harry today yet, and that was probably a good thing.  
As if it wasn't enough that everyone had been in high spirits yesterday, this morning he had to listen to Seamus moan about how Harry was going to beat Cedric's ass in the first challenge. And he had to listen to Fred and George contemplating how Harry had passed the Age Line. Not to mention how they had gone over and over about him not knowing anything about it. Oh, and then _several _Hufflepuffs found it necessary to _accidentally _walk into him during breakfast. As if he was to blame for Harry's sudden election as fourth champion.

Ron's ears went bright red as he remembered how Harry had denied that he had put his name in the Goblet last night. He had looked positively ridiculous, with that red banner draped around his shoulders, and his standard tortured 'the whole world is against me again' look in his eyes. For Merlin's sake, could he at least try to look convincing?

Hermione dropped in the armchair opposite of him, and like him, seemed in a really bad mood. She stared at him, with these angry eyes, obviously trying to make him feel bad for something he had or hadn't done.

"What? I had nothing to do with Crookshanks getting locked up in that storage closet, okay? It wasn't me." He sighed, looking into the fire.

"Crookshanks got what?" Hermione asked shocked. "Look, whatever, I don't care about that. You need to talk to Harry."

Ron scowled. Of course she was on his side."No. I'm not talking to that traitor."

Hermione sighed and sunk back in her armchair. "He didn't put his name in the Goblet, Ron."

"Oh no? Then how did it get in there?" He said bitterly "It's not like anyone else wants him to participate. He did it, and now he's lying to me about it. What a best friend he is. He could have at least told me."

Hermione looked at him with pitying eyes, but didn't argue against him.

"Look, just go back to him, will you? It's not like you're ever on my side. So instead of sitting here with the sidekick, go hang out with The Boy Who Lived. If you're lucky you might even get an autograph. But better be quick about it, I heard he only hands out 20 a day." Ron spit and stood up, leaving a stunned Hermione sitting alone.

He climbed through the portrait, and of course Harry was standing in the hallway on the other side. This time he wasn't surrounded by cheering Gryffindors, instead he was all alone and he looked positively miserable. Ron refused to look at him, and walked straight past his former best friend. He didn't stop walking until he was all the way downstairs, where he realized he had absolutely no clue what he was going to do now.

**HERMIONE (Gryffindor Common Room, November 1st)**

First Harry and now Ron? Hermione had assumed that once the champions were picked, life could get back to normal. But now Ron was jealous and angry and a general pain in the ass, and Harry was about to get killed in a stupid tournament while he got pretty much everyone against him who wasn't a Gryffindor.  
And if that wasn't enough, Ron and Harry weren't speaking because both were too bloody proud.  
She believed Harry of course, when he said he didn't put his name in the Goblet. But this was turning fast into another 'let's try to kill Harry Potter'-year, and Hermione was pretty much out of moves.

Getting up out of the armchair, she left the common room behind. Since Ron wasn't in actual danger, unless maybe from himself, she figured that Harry could use her help more than Ron did. And what does one do when in doubt? Go to the library.  
While she admired Madame Pince's work ethic, she was always surprised that the Hogwarts library was open 24/7. And while the library was mostly empty on Sundays, you never knew when a tsunami of students would waltz in, panicking because they had put off doing their homework for too long. So when Hermione walked in and only saw a couple of Ravenclaws, she was relieved.

She quickly made her way over to the legal section, her standard spot, nodding at Madame Pince when she passed the librarian. Clearly having forgiven Hermione for yesterday's noise, the librarian nodded back in recognition.

It didn't take long before Hermione had found every book that vaguely mentioned something about the Triwizard Tournament and dragged it towards her table, and it took even less time before she was mesmerized by this 800 pages counting book describing the Tournament somewhere in the 1700s.

She was so mesmerized in fact, that she didn't notice Fleur Delacour dropping in a chair next to hers.

"Bonjour." Fleur said and Hermione looked up in surprise. "I zought you'd be here."

Fleur looked over to all the books on the table, realizing instantly what Hermione was researching.

"Ze Tournament eh?" She said, running her hand over the leather covers, "You are 'oping to 'elp your friend Harry?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I think he needs all the help he can get right now." She smiled, glad to see the French witch again. "Congratulations by the way. I have no doubt you will do great."

"Zank you 'Ermione." Fleur grinned, putting her hand lightly on Hermione's arm for a second "I 'ope I will." Then she frowned, withdrawing her hand. "I need to ask you some'zing."

Hermione sighed, realizing what came next and for some reason she wished Fleur had left her hand on her arm. Maybe she actually was a Veela. "You want to ask me about Harry."

"Oui." Fleur nodded. "You seem good friends and I need to know, I would not ask o'zerwise. 'Ermione, did 'e put 'is name in ze Goblet?"

"No" Hermione said, looking straight into Fleur's serious dark blue eyes. "He didn't."

Fleur remained silent for a minute, scanning Hermione's face and Hermione could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Okay." Fleur said eventually, breaking off the stare. "I believe you."  
She sighed and sunk back in her chair. "But if 'e did not do it, 'zan 'oo did?"

"We don't know." Hermione shrugged. "He's Harry Potter, people tend to have it out for him." She closed the book in front of her and asked: "So, you said you thought I'd be here, were you looking for me?"

Fleur grinned at Hermione, "Oui. You are ze only Hogwarts student I enjoyed a real conversation wi'z, and if you are willing to spend a day in ze library to look up legal facts around ze Unforgivables, it was logical you like spending time here." She winked. "Some'zing in me said you like to read."

"Yeah, I do." Hermione laughed, deciding to change the topic once again. "So are you happy that you are now the Beauxbatons champion?"

"Oui." Fleur said happily. "I 'ave been 'oping to be chosen for weeks now."

"Even though you might die?"

Fleur laughed. "What is life wi'zout a little risk?"

"I don't know, less dangerous?" Hermione smiled but quickly changed into a grimace. "A lot less complicated.."

Fleur frowned at Hermione's expression. "Did some'zing 'appen?"

"Nothing to worry about." Hermione tried to dismiss the question, but the piercing eyes of the witch next to her made her hesitate.

"You don't need to tell me if you do not want to." Fleur said softly, putting her hand on Hermione's arm for a second time.

"It's Harry and Ron.." Hermione sighed, giving in and glad to be able to vent a little. "They are my two best friends and now they refuse to talk to each other over something as stupid as this tournament. Even though it is so obvious that someone is, once again, trying to get Harry killed. But Ron is jealous of the spotlight, and Harry is too stubborn and proud and I'm stuck in the middle _again_." Suddenly realizing who exactly she was venting to, she turned towards Fleur. "I'm sorry, I don't even know why I'm telling you this.."

"Zat is okay," Fleur shrugged "I don't mind listening to you, 'onestly, I quite enjoy it. Do not worry about it. Eventually 'zey wil realize zat zey were bo'z wrong. Zey are quite lucky wi'z a friend like you."

Hermione smiled at the French witch who was trying to comfort her, and got up from her seat, gesturing for Fleur to follow her into the maze that was the library. She walked quickly, trailing the bookcases with her fingers, stopping after a while in front of a shelf with particularly old books. She tapped the back of an old black book with her finger.

"I discovered this book a while ago and after yesterday I thought you could use this for your essay."

Fleur reached for the book on the shelf, opened it on a random page and scowled after seeing some of the rather vile pictures in the book.

"History of the Blackest Curses." Hermione said. "I believe there is a chapter on the creation of the Unforgivables. Not the actual spellmaking, otherwise it'd belong in the restricted section, but more on the circumstances surrounding their creation."

She leaned against the dusty bookcase and looked at the scowl on Fleur's face.  
"Not the nicest of all books, I know.."

"Zank you." Fleur said after a pause, "I'm sure I can use zis." She closed the book and looked at Hermione. "I 'ope that I do not 'ave to write my essay now that I am ze champion, but you never know wirz Maxime."

"I 'ave to go now." Fleur continued, "I promised a friend we would go search for coffee, you British only 'ave tea apparently. Can you imagine ze chaos down in ze carriage? "

Hermione smiled a little sadly and nodded. "You should try the kitchens, not that I know where they are, Fred and George currently refuse to tell me."

Fleur laughed loudly, getting a 'shhht' from several books as response. "Why would zese Fred and George refuse to tell you?"

"They don't want me to free any house elves." sighed Hermione. "If you find the kitchens, let me know?"

"I will." Fleur smiled, if she was confused she didn't show it. "Let's talk again soon, oui? I quite enjoy your company."

"Of course.. and thank you for listening." Hermione said and watched how Fleur turned around, checking the book Hermione gave her out and getting a scolding from Madame Pince for laughing too loud. Before the French witch left the library, she waved at Hermione. From all the way on the other side of the library, Hermione could see Fleur greeting another Beauxbatons witch with a kiss on the cheek before venturing off, deeper into Hogwarts. Gathering her things too, she chose to ignore the growing black feeling in her stomach. Kissing people on the cheek was a French custom, right?

**HARRY (Potions, November 5, 02.57 p.m.)**

If Harry had thought that everything was going to blow over after a couple of days, he was wrong. While the Ravenclaws where relatively calm about the matter, it was obvious that they didn't approve of him. The Hufflepuffs, who had _always_ approved of him before, were currently on the warpath and the Slytherins were simply having a field day with it all. Even some of the Professors were icy towards him, at best. It didn't matter that he claimed he didn't do it as loud as he could, because even his best friend, even Ron, didn't believe him.

And that was what made everything even worse. Harry had dealt with being the outcast before, but at least he had Ron on his side then. Now Ron refused to even look at him and always sat as far away from Harry as possible.  
He was glad that he at least had Hermione. Although she had been disappearing left and right lately. And while he knew she was probably in the library, the library was not nearly as fun as talking to Ron had been. Nonetheless. It had been Hermione who shouted at a couple of Gryffindors to shut the hell up about the Tournament yesterday. The whole situation had been reaching its climax for a while now, and for some reason it seemed impossible to get away. It was, by far, the worst time he had ever had at Hogwarts.

The badges didn't help, naturally, nor did Snape's incapability of being human. So when Malfoy accidently cursed Hermione, and Ron and Harry rose up in anger together, just for a second there he thought everything was going to be alright. But then Snape denied anything happened, took points from both of them and Ron still sat with Seamus instead of with him.

Harry turned around, looking at Ron, trying to catch his eye. But when he did, Ron just scowled at him, and Snape dropped a book loudly on Harry's desk, ushering him to pay attention.

All in all, Harry was glad that a knock on the door interrupted everything.

"Potter still has an hour of Potions class left, he can come when class is finished." Snape said curtly to the poor boy, Colin Creevey, who's smile had long faded away after trying to get Harry to come with him.

"Sir.. " He said nervously "Mister Bagman has asked for all the champions. I think they are going to take photo's.."

If Harry had known this was going to happen, he would have run away as far and as fast as he could. Instead he now stared stoically at the ground, ignoring the sniggers from the Slytherins around him.

"Fine. He can go. Leave your things Potter, I want you to be back by the end of class." Snape snapped.

"But.. Sir.." Colin hesitated. "He needs to bring his things.. All the champions.."

"Very _well_." Snape bit harsly. "Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."

Harry quickly grabbed his bag, glancing at Ron as he walked out of the class, desperately ignoring all of the POTTER STINKS-badges. Ron refused to acknowledge his existence, instead staring intensely at his textbook. Now that was a first.

Colin talked enthusiastically all the way as he escorted Harry to the right room, not realizing that Harry wasn't paying attention at all. So naturally, he was relieved when they reached their destination. He quickly knocked on the door and went inside, leaving a still smiling Colin Creevey behind.

Harry entered a fairly small classroom, in which most of the desks had been pushed aside, leaving a space in the middle. In front of the blackboard stood a couple of desks end-to-end covered in velvet robes. Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of the chairs behind it, smiling broadly at his youngest champion.

As he looked around, he saw Victor Krum hanging moodily in a corner, obviously not interested in anything that was going on. Cedric and Fleur Delacour, on the other hand, were joined in a conversation. He planned on walking towards them, as Cedric gestured for him to come over, but Bagman interrupted by loudly calling out Harry's name. Bagman stood up, reached for Harry and dragged him almost violently towards a woman in magneta robes whom he had never seen before in his life.

"Here he is!" Bagman proclaimed "Our fourth champion! Welcome Harry, welcome, glad you could make it!" he said, completely ignoring that Harry was pretty much kidnapped out of class. "No need to worry about anything, just some wand weighing, a photo shoot, maybe a tiny interview for the _Daily Prophet."_

"Well, not _that _tiny, Ludo." The woman in magneta robes said, her interested eyes hungrily examining Harry. She wore jeweled spectacles and was clutching a crocodile-skinned handbag with thick fingers.

"Ah well, that's up to you I guess." Bagman smiled "Harry, this is Rita Skeeter, she is a journalist for the _Prophet_."

The woman smiled at Harry, making him strangely uncomfortable. "How about we chat for a while, Harry? You don't mind now, do you, Ludo?"

"Well if Harry has no objections.." Bagman grinned.

Before Harry could say anything, Rita Skeeter cried out "Lovely!" and dragged Harry with her to the nearest door. She opened it, almost stepped inside the tiny broom closet, and then got stopped by a twinkly-eyed Dumbledore who - thank Merlin - showed up out of nowhere.

"Hello miss Skeeter." He smiled kindly. "If you don't mind, we are about to get started."

"Dumbledore!" Rita Skeeter said in delight "How are you? Have you read my recent piece on the Wizengamot?"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore grinned. "I particularly loved your description of me as a wacky, obsolete and half-deaf dingbat."

Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely embarrassed as Dumbledore took Harry by his shoulder and lightly pushed him back to the center of the room.

**RITA SKEETER (Weighing of the Wands, 03.17 p.m.)**

As expected, the Weighing of The Wands was a completely useless affair. There was literally nothing to write about who had which wand and what core and all that madness.

Now, the fact that this French witch was a quarter Veela, _that _ was interesting. Or that Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived for Merlin's sake - was the fourth and unexpected Champion. A shame that Dumbledore had dragged the boy away before they could have that little chat.

Still, about Fleur Delacour and Harry Potter she didn't have to worry. Krum the international Quidditch player on the other hand, didn't help her much beside the fact that it would attract a little more readers, as he avoided her for almost the entire time she was there. But then again, it was known that Krum didn't like to talk to press.

And then she had the one champion she could care less about: Cedric Diggory, the preppy golden boy. He probably never failed a class, never stole one sweet at Honeydukes or tried Butterbeer before he was old enough. No, she could definitely not write anything interesting about him. It would be Delacour and Potter all the way.

As her photographer desperately tried to get the Veela girl up front in the pictures, she decided to intervene and put Potter ahead of the others. She shoved his hair a little out of his face, making sure the lightning scar was clearly visible, and ignored the uncomfortable look in his eyes. Then, when all pictures were taken, she grinned.

When all the champions had escaped, she nodded at Dumbledore, waved at her photographer, and quickly left the room. Time for some snooping around. She could already see the front page article.

She knew by now how she was going to write Potter, the boy needed some favour on his side, but her portrayal of Fleur Delacour was yet to be undecided. This half-breed side of her would definitely piss some people off. And no one, not even Fleur Delacour, was as perfect as the image they tried to sell. There had to be someone from Beauxbatons who could tell her something interesting about the Veela girl.

Rita Skeeter had a nose for finding people who were willing to talk dirt on her subjects. But after she had finished writing everything down the Beauxbatons student in front of her had told her, she knew she had been luckier than usual with this Jacques Gaillard.


	5. Chapter Five: Dragons

**A/N Here is chapter five! As always, I would like to thank my amazing Beta, Peeves' Best Friend, who actually beta'ed this chapter out loud, in different voices. Hermione's was surprisingly high. Anyways, BIG thanks to him. I suggest you visit his story Harry Potter and the Elemental Changes. While it is rather crude at the beginning, it will become awesome, you just have to keep on reading.  
**

**Also, thank YOU, for continuing to read Fleur De La Mer. I keep finding inspiration because of your interest.**

* * *

**FLEUR DE LA MER**

**CHAPTER FIVE: Dragons**

**HARRY (Great Hall, Saturday November 21st, 6.53 pm)**

Harry showed up half way through dinner, and judging by the look on his face, he had no clue what had just happened to him. As usual these days, his eyes first flickered to Ron, who was eating a sausage with lots of sauce yet without any vegetables, before he sat down next to Hermione. He looked tired and nervous and for a good reason.

Ever since the first article came out in the _Daily Prophet,_ people had been pestering him even more than before. While the Hufflepuffs had taken to blatantly ignoring him, the Slytherins found it all hilarious. It had gotten so far, that every time Malfoy saw Harry, he offered him tissues _'in case he needed a good cry'_. So angry about it all, the badges, the looks, the comments and now the tissues, Harry had finally just grabbed the box of tissues out of Malfoy's hands and thrown them away as hard as he could. Unfortunately, they had hit Snape in the face, earning him another Friday of detention, and ever since then he had just let it go. Which had of course been Hermione's advice in the first place.

He sighed thinking about Hermione. She had been there every time he needed her, but he knew he was getting on her nerves. He meant, why wouldn't she be annoyed by him. _He_ was getting on hisnerves. But he just couldn't shake this stupid black feeling. Why would no one believe him? No one but Hermione. Hermione the rock. Hermione who stood by him.

Ron on the other hand, had decided after reading Skeeter's article, that he had been right about Harry just wanting the spotlight, and had gotten to the point of openly supporting Cedric as champion. He even started wearing a Cedric Badge, which Malfoy of course found fantastic, but Harry had yet to see it switch to POTTER STINKS. Nonetheless, if it hadn't been for Hermione, Harry probably would have punched Ron in the face by now. And he would have had a good reason. He would have never left Ron in the cold like this. He would have always supported him. His eyes once again flickered to Ron, who currently refused to acknowledge his existence.

Instead of thinking about his former best friend again - which would only make him more nauseous - Harry turned to Hermione. "Any idea why Hagrid would want to see me at midnight?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "He wants to see you that late?"

"Yes. He told me in the hallway right before I came in." Harry sighed and whispered. "I don't know if I should go, I might be late for Padfoot."

Tonight, at the common room fireplace, Harry was supposed to meet with his godfather, who had his own thoughts on the Tournament and wanted to share them with Harry in person. While Harry and Hermione had tried to convince him by owl that breaking into Hogwarts wasn't really something a fugitive wanted to do, Sirius had answered with a one line letter.

_Don't worry, just be there._

Hermione had snorted and had looked rather dismayed at the piece of parchment, but she hadn't said anything. Which was probably the best he could have hoped for from Hermione.

"Maybe it is important." Hermione said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm just going to go to Hagrid's." sighed Harry and stood up. Most of the students had left the Great Hall already, and while Harry hadn't eaten a thing, he too decided to leave.

"Are you going already? It is not nearly midnight." Hermione asked him worriedly. "And you haven't eaten anything _again_. You need to eat, Harry!"

Harry simply shrugged her worries away, turned around, and left Hermione sitting at an almost empty table. He knew it probably wasn't the best thing solution - since friends were hard to come by these day - but he really wanted to be alone.

Walking out on Hermione, he figured he'd wander around the halls some more. The common room had lost its charm a long time ago.

**FLEUR (Great Hall, Saturday 7.22 pm)**

A table further, Fleur could see Hermione sitting alone, sipping from a cup of pumpkin juice as the girl watched Harry Potter leave the hall. Fleur really could care less about the Boy Who Lived - he was her rival after all - but he was also Hermione's friend and she could see her shoulders sink as he left her alone. Ignoring Inès' joke beside her and to the surprise of her Beauxbatons classmates, she stood up and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

"Bonsoir 'Ermione' Fleur said, and sat down. " 'Ow are you doing?"

"Oh hi Fleur." Hermione smiled softly. "I'm okay I guess, and you?"

Fleur sent her a crooked smile and said "Well, not 'ungry anymore. And even 'zough your British food isn't really my style. I 'ave eaten very well tonight. And 'zen I saw you sitting 'ere and decided I needed to practice my English."

"Your English is pretty good, it's just the accent." Hermione smiled.

Fleur grinned and leaned forward, whispering in Hermione's ear. "I really just wanted to escape my 'orrible classmates.." Her lips almost touched the English girl's ear, and she was content to see a shiver run through Hermione.

"Are they really that horrible?" Hermione asked hoarse.

"Non." Fleur grinned again and pulled away "But 'zey annoy me sometimes."

She lazily leant back against the table, sitting close to Hermione. Fleur reached for an empty cup, still standing on the table and grabbed a jug of pumpkin juice. She felt strangely confident, with an almost empty great hall and a full stomach.

"They do always surround you.. I mean, when I see you in the hallway, you're never alone."

"Mais, oui. And for some reason 'zey 'ave gotten more persistent after my election as champion." sighed Fleur "Al'zough some are my friends."

"Not all of them?" Hermione asked surprised

"Merlin no!" Fleur yawned and laughed "Are all 'ze people you 'ang out wiz your friends?"

"Well.. yes. It's mostly Harry and Ron though. And Ginny, Ron's sister." smiled Hermione.

"Speaking of the devil." a girl in a Hogwarts uniform said, and dropped on a bench on the other side of the table. "Or are you not supposed to say that when you're talking about yourself?"

Fleur looked at the new arrival, the girl was younger than Hermione, with bright red hair and a contagious smile on her face. She looked like she was about to run a prank somewhere. Maybe she was related to those redhead twins striding around the school, the ones with the beards and all the underwater classrooms. Coincidentally, also the ones that had tried to change the Beauxbatons carriage' colour from blue to pink. They hadn't completely reached their goal, but the carriage was currently stuck on a very weird tint of purple. Naturally, Inès found it all fantastic. Anyways, this redhead girl definitely had the same devious look in her eyes.

"I didn't know you two knew each other?" The redhead asked Hermione, gesturing at Fleur. "By the way, I'm Ginny."

"Ello Ginny." Fleur said charmingly. "I am Fleur."

"Yeah, I figured.. You being champion and all." Ginny grinned. "So how come the Beauxbatons champion hangs out with a fourth year from Hogwarts?"

"'Ermione 'elped me in my second day at 'Ogwarts. Apparently she knows ze library better 'zan ze librarian." Fleur said, causing Ginny to laugh at Hermione's scowling face. Fleur smiled, she liked that scowl.

"She does spend an awful lot of time in there." Ginny agreed swiftly. "Which is a good thing, because this means I always know where to find her when I need help with my homework."

Hermione sighed. "You're just like Ron."

"You probably know him, he drools whenever he sees you." Ginny mocked her brother.

Fleur smiled tightly. Drooling people weren't exactly a rare occurrence around her, and the people at Hogwarts weren't that good at dodging her random lashes of thrall. Noticing that her classmates were leaving, she stood up, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I 'ave to go. Maxime wants to see me."

Hermione looked at her in curiosity. "Detention again? On a Saturday?"

Fleur grinned, squeezing Hermione's shoulder softly. "Not detention, non. I 'ave no idea what it is zis time." She turned to Ginny. "It was nice to meet you. See you soon 'Ermione?" Fleur asked.

"Yes. Goodnight."

Fleur Delacour turned around and in a flash of silvery hair walked out of the Great Hall. She ignored Inès' inquisitive looks and instead smiled all the way to the currently purple carriage.

"Uhm." She heard beside her. "What was that just now?"

"Quoi?" Fleur asked innocently.

"Don't tell me you like her, Fleur." Inès sighed. "Aren't you here to win a Tournament?"

"Hmmm." Fleur smiled. "What does it matter?" She picked up her pace and forced Inès to almost jog beside her to keep up. Oui. She liked Hermione. She had taken a liking to the fourth year pretty much after their first meeting. Hermione was sweet and kind, loyal and funny, pretty and smart. She liked talking to her. She liked being around her. She doubted she'd spent as much time in the library researching pretty much anything, if Hermione wasn't around.

Although it was kind of obvious that Hermione hadn't picked up on any of her flirting.

**HERMIONE (Great Hall, Saturday 07.55 pm)**

She watched Fleur leave the Great Hall together with the other Beauxbatons students and couldn't help but smile as she saw Fleur glance back to her; right before disappearing through the doorway. The French witch had been more of a friend to her than Ron lately, who didn't want to talk about anything and most certainly not about Harry.

When Harry was sick of hanging in the library - which was most of the time - and she was sitting there all alone, that was generally the time for Fleur to show up. Always with some excuse about having to write some essay for Maxime - it seemed like her detention would last forever - she always asked Hermione for help with her research. Hermione had yet to see her write one word though, and mostly those short moments in the library were filled with jokes and teasing instead of studying. She liked it when Fleur appeared out of nowhere. It made her smile. The French girl, generally surrounded by a vast troupe of people, was always alone when she sought out Hermione. Hermione liked being sought out by Fleur.

"I didn't know you two were that close?" Ginny asked, snapping Hermione back to reality. "Well, frankly, I didn't know you had even met, or well, liked the French for that matter. You do have a vast assortment of special comments for the Beauxbatons lot."

"Yeah well." Hermione smiled softly. "We just see each other sometimes in the library. And most of the students from Beauxbatons _are_ very arrogant, Ginny, I was just wrong about Fleur I guess. "

"Oh okay, Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, was wrong about Fleur Delacour, Triwizard champion, French, ridiculously beautiful and the topic of my brother's dreams? That's just gold." Ginny laughed, then a wolfish smile appeared on her face. "So, do you two always flirt when you see each other? Or was that just now a onetime thing?"

"What?!" exclaimed Hermione in surprise. "Fleur and I don't _flirt._ For Merlin's sake Ginny, she's a girl."

"So, girls can't flirt with each other?" Ginny asked, reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice that promptly disappeared off the table. "Bloody house elves." She muttered.

"Ginny! They are just doing their jobs! And I didn't say that girls can't flirt with each other." Hermione said haughtily. "She's probably just being French. French people aren't as stiff as us English." She clearly remembered how Fleur had greeted one of her friends with a kiss on the cheek. On the other hand, she also remembered the beginnings of jealousy forming deep inside of her. Shaking her thoughts off, she focussed on Ginny again.

"You can say all you want 'Mione. But I recognize flirting when I see it." Ginny grinned "And you don't let me sit that close to you."

"Ginevra Weasley! I do _not_ flirt with Fleur!" Hermione cried out perplexed.

"Fine. But _she_ definitely flirts with _you_." said Ginny amused.

"Who flirts with Hermione?"

Hermione jumped up, She had been so engulfed in the conversation that she didn't notice Ron standing behind his sister.

"No one." The two girls said at the same time. Ronald probably didn't even knew she hung out with his out of reach crush.

Ron frowned sceptically. "Yeah, sure. As if." Looking solely at Hermione, he seemed like he wanted to ask something, but decided against it, at the last minute. "Let's go to the common room." He sighed resignedly. "The food's gone and I still need to write that piece on the summoning charm for Flitwick."

Agreeing that it was time to go, Hermione stood up and left the Great Hall together with Ron, followed closely by a still grinning Ginny. Entering the common room, she noticed that Harry was once again nowhere to be found, but, given that Ron was in her company, that might have been a good thing. The last time she forced the two boys to sit together, red sparks had flown out of Harry's wand and Ron's ears had had about the same colour as said sparks. She was glad Neville had managed to diffuse the situation by tripping over the tapestry and falling head first into a massive pudding that Fred and George had brought up from the kitchens. By the time Neville had reappeared, all covered in pudding, Harry had disappeared into his dormitory and Ron couldn't stop laughing until thirty minutes after. Leave it to Neville to cheer people up by accident. A simple cleaning charm coming from her wand had made all the pudding vanish from Neville's clothes, and the twins had not shown their face, knowing Hermione was on the warpath. They still refused to show her the way to the kitchen.

After Ron had convinced her to help him with his Charms' essay, Hermione spent the entire evening writing it, while Ron played Exploding Snap with Seamus. Considering a whole evening had gone by without any arguments by the time she finished, she was for once happy to help Ron cheat his way through Hogwarts.

Honestly, she had forgotten how much fun it was, hanging out with Ron. He might be oblivious to so many things in life, he did still make her laugh. He smiled at her gratefully as she took the stairs to the girl's dormitories. She could feel his eyes on her back as she slowly went upstairs. All in all, it had been a good day.

**FLEUR (Beauxbatons Carriage, Sunday November 22nd, 01.33 am)**

Dragons, Fleur thought when the door closed behind Madame Maxime, leaving her to sit alone in her living room. Large, dangerous, fire-breathing, murderous _dragons._

She could barely believe that they were somehow going to be her first task. She had listened stoically to Madame Maxime, who had barged in slightly panicky, at an incredibly late hour. She was lucky Fleur never went to bed before one, or today, after this news, probably not at all. Nonetheless, Fleur had managed to keep a straight face, and Maxime had calmed down after seeing that her champion seemingly wasn't bothered by the news. Well, at least on the outside.

Dragons. _Putain_.

She had some concerns after Maxime told her this news.  
It wasn't very kosher to find out about the task, _before_ the task now, was it? And was she the only one who knew? It didn't seem like it, Karkaroff obviously wanted to win as much as Maxime did, so she couldn't imagine him not being around when her headmistress had seen those dragons. That left the two boys from Hogwarts. Or maybe Dumbledore had told them like Maxime told her. Although that seemed unlikely. Wasn't Dumbledore this rather noble and honourable person? Would he cheat?

She guessed not.

Brilliant. Now she had a moral obligation to tell Harry Potter and Diggory. Oh merde. It would have been so much easier if she hadn't found out about the task. Still though, what could you do against a dragon?

On the bright side, there was literally no chance that the task involved slaying the dragon. Dragons were notoriously hard to kill and not to mention extremely expensive. She doubted that the schools were willing to pay for four dead dragons. She didn't know Karkaroff or Dumbledore well enough, but Madame Maxime was in fact known for always spending the least amount of gold possible.

It was far more logical that the dragons were going to be used as a guardian of some sort. Get passed the dragon, claim the prize, that sort of thing. All the while trying not to get hurt or - Merlin forbid - die.

That still meant she needed to find a way to distract a dragon.

Fleur snorted out loud, she could not believe she was actually logically trying to figure out how to get past a dragon.

Dragons were tough beasts, enormous, mysterious, powerful and - according to some - they were magnificent. And while Fleur might not agree with dragons being magnificent, she did know that you didn't simply distract a dragon. Nor could you tame one without being immensely magically powerful. Sure, Fleur was above average in magic, but she wouldn't go as far as to think of herself as someone who could actually _tame _a dragon.

Tricking or confusing a dragon was almost as difficult as taming one, honestly, the Confundus charm wouldn't get you anywhere. Dragons were known to simply shake it off, and most of the time, only get angered more. There had been many stories of witches and wizards who were trampled or burnt to a crisp after they had tried to confound a dragon. Fleur Delacour refused to get trampled.

As far as Fleur knew, the only spell to actually get a dragon more or less under your control without having to actually tame it, was the Imperius Curse. Yet somehow she doubted that that would get her the respect she wanted. Not that it mattered, she had never even performed an Imperius Curse, and she wasn't going to start with that now. Non, she needed to find a different way.

Three hours later and Fleur wasn't any closer to a solution. Beauxbatons Carriage' library owned exactly two books on dragons - one of them being a fairytale - and they weren't as much help as she had hoped. So far she had learnt how to clip a dragons claws and how to keep their scales clean and healthy or how to recognize if your dragon is sick by the colour of its fire. But since she wasn't planning on owning a domesticated dragon any time soon, that information didn't help her one bit. Basically, the last three hours had been wasted.

It was around three-thirty in the morning and Fleur felt more tired by the second. Honestly, she thought, as she rested her head on the book in front of her, if only that dragon was asleep during the task, she didn't need to worry about getting trampled, burnt or bitten.

Her eyes instantly flew open.

She had found her answer.

**THE DAILY PROPHET - Sunday Morning edition**

**_CHAMPION FOR BEAUXBATONS -  
THE VEELA WHO USED HER POWERS_**

_This Halloween Fleur Delacour, top student of the Beauxbatons Institute de Magique, was elected Champion in the Triwizard Tournament. The daughter of Pierre Delacour, high functionary of the French Ministry of Magic, is the number one ranking student in her year and is known to have a prominent future ahead of her. _

_Less known is her heritage as a Veela, which your reporter learnt firsthand at the Weighing of the Wands a couple of weeks ago. And even lesser known is her fondness of using her powers as a Veela to her advantage. A student from Beauxbatons, who likes to remain anonymous, recently told your reporter about the several incidents that have happened while Delacour has been attending class at Beauxbatons. _

_"Only recently she used her thrall on a professor to get out of detention for falling asleep in class." The student said, "Madame Maxime is fond of her so she got away with it pretty easily, as she always does. I wouldn't be surprised at all if she started using her thrall on the judges during the Tournament." _

_The news that the Beauxbatons Champion might cheat her way through the Tournament, worries many. Not in the least Harry Potter, who already has a big disadvantage on the other Champions. More on page 6._

**HARRY POTTER (Great Lake, Sunday, 08.30 am)**

Staring at the calm and dark water, Harry was panicking. Sirius could say all he wanted, dragons were scary as hell. He officially realized he was in way over his head with this Tournament. And if that wasn't enough, one of the judges was a bloody Death Eater. He was doomed. What on earth was he supposed to do now?

He wondered what would have happened if he had seen the dragons for the first time on Tuesday, he'd probably pass out in front of the entire school and not wake up until the task was done. Secretly he hoped that was still an option, less risk of dying that way. But Ron would have a field day if that happened. And with the _Daily Prophet _ reporting on every move he made, he could already see Skeeter's next headline.

_"Potter passes out after Dragons remind him of You-Know-Who." _

Probably something like that, maybe a little more dramatic, presumably someone would testify he burst out in tears and laid in foetus position on the ground. Presumably, it would be Malfoy, or Snape. Snape would totally do that.

Next up: _"Potter's biggest fear: Potions class."_

Yeah, that would be grand.

Harry snorted. He needed Hermione to wake up, quickly, he needed her help. He needed her to figure out what he could do against a dragon. He needed her to calm him down. By Merlin's biggest mistake, Harry was even willing to live in the library if it meant that he wouldn't die on Tuesday.

The Giant Squid broke the calm waterline of the Black Lake, splashing water all over the Durmstrang ship. He wondered how Krum wasn't sick all the time, that ship looked about as sturdy as Neville's flying. Water was probably leaking through every corner, small miracle it didn't sink. The wonders of magic.

"Bonjour." Harry heard softly behind him. He looked around to see Fleur Delacour standing next to him, her normally very radiant face looked very tired and her beautiful hair was slightly dishevelled. She was not wearing her standard Beauxbatons uniform, and instead she was walking around dressed like a Muggle. Harry was surprised, somehow he hadn't expected Fleur to wear Muggle clothing. Okay, maybe he _could_ see her in a Muggle cocktail dress, but the worn-out jeans were a surprise. It seemed a little too down to earth for the witch who had enchanted half of Hogwarts.

"'Arry." She frowned at him. "I need to tell you some'zing."

"Hi Fleur." Harry said slightly surprised that the Beauxbatons champion was talking to him. "What is it?"

"Dragons. 'Ze first task involves dragons. I 'zought you needed to know 'zat."

Completely baffled Harry spoke: "I know. Hagrid showed me." Before he had even finished his sentence, he could hit himself. He should never have mentioned Hagrid. He didn't want to endanger his friend. Damn it, why did Hagrid so stupidly put his job on the line in the first place? Harry knew why, stupid idolization of Maxime. God, the dragons had probably been able to smell the cologne all the way from the other side of the grounds.

Fleur sighed and sat down in the grass, and after a short hesitation Harry sat down beside her. The grass was still wet from last night's rain, yet Fleur didn't seem to notice her jeans getting damp. Harry on the other hand, was glad he was wearing his long and thick cloak. He shivered.

"Krum knows too, I ran into Karkaroff yesterday evening. He had followed Hagrid and Madame Maxime into the Forbidden Forest." Harry said, deciding to be honest. Truth be told he didn't really care what Fleur knew or didn't knew. He figured she wasn't about to say anything about Hagrid if it would hurt Maxime in the process.

" 'Zat leaves Diggory." Fleur said carefully.

"Yes." sighed Harry resignedly. "I'm planning on telling him when I run into him, it wouldn't be fair to not say anything.."

"Bon." Fleur said. "Zat makes it easier for me."

The French witch stood up and knocked the remaining dirt off her jeans. She nodded a goodbye to Harry and was about to leave for what Harry presumed was the carriage.

"Fleur, wait." He said and she looked at him inquisitively. "Did you see the _Daily Prophet _ this morning?"

Fleur frowned. "Non, I did not."

"You should read it. There is an article in it about you." Harry spoke softly. "Rita Skeeter wrote about you, I guess she picked up on some rumours and decided to write a story about it."

The quarter-Veela scowled. "Putain. Que ce-qu'elle a dit?"

"Something about using your Veela powers to influence the outcome of the Tournament. There is a rumour going on that you have most of your professors in your pocket, because you use your thrall on them." Harry said carefully and he quickly added. "I don't believe it, I know firsthand that Skeeter makes up most of her stories, but many people do, so, I guessed I should warn you."

Fleur visibly paled and sat down next to him again. "Merde." She whispered and together they stared at the Black Lake in silence.

**INÈS (Beauxbaton Carriage, Sunday 09.41 am)**

Whenever you needed Fleur, she was missing in action. And this _definitely_ was a time where Inès needed to find Fleur. She had looked everywhere. Fleur was not in her chambers, she was not in the kitchen - not that there was food in it anyway - she was not in the library in the carriage, and she was not in the library in the castle. She had looked _everywhere_. Except for all the places that she forgot.

Recently, whenever Fleur disappeared, she was in the company of a _very _bushy haired fourth year from Hogwarts. Coincidentally, that fourth year was friends with Harry Potter, the Unexpected Champion. Originally Inès had presumed that Fleur was being cunning and was trying to get information on the Boy Who Lived via his friends, but when she tried to congratulate her friend on her commitment to the Tournament, Fleur had gotten very upset. Anyways, while the bushy haired fourth year, _Hermione_, was currently in the library, Fleur was for once - strangely enough - not in her company.

Sighing, she dropped into one of the cosy armchairs surrounding the open fireplace in the middle of the central hall of the carriage. All around her, people were whispering ferociously about the article in the _Daily Prophet_. Truth be told, there had been rumours about Fleur using her thrall on Fournier before they left. But Inès could not believe someone would actually talk to that horrendous reporter. And while most Beauxbatons students knew that Fleur couldn't _actively_ control her thrall, they weren't about to waste such a delicious piece of gossip. Nonetheless, it wasn't the Beauxbatons students that she was worried about, they weren't about to leave their queen bee hanging out to dry. Non. But she had seen the reactions to the articles about Harry Potter all around Hogwarts, and she didn't want that to happen to her best friend.

The front door of the carriage opened up and a dishevelled looking Fleur appeared through the opening. Immediately, the people in the hall went quiet. Her friend, while slightly more sloppy looking than usual, held her head high as she walked through the hall.

"Fleur!" Inès quickly called out and leapt to her feet. "Let's go to your chambers!"

Fleur nodded and together they climbed the stairs, leaving all the gossip behind.

Once inside Fleur's living room, Inès tried to explain the whole article situation to her friend, but a very calm Fleur just said "Je sais." and dropped into one of her armchairs.

"You do?" Inès asked surprised, she didn't actually think Fleur read the _Daily Prophet._

"Harry Potter warned me about it earlier." Fleur sighed. "I haven't read it though."

Inès shook her head and said "Well, I know it was Gaillard who told that Skeeter woman. He just bragged about it by the fire. I knew he was a fils de pute, mais.. I didn't think he would lie that blatantly. Everyone knows that you can't actually control your thrall."

"Except that I did." Fleur answered ashamed. "I don't know what came over me, but I did. That is why I have been in detention every Friday. Maxime was furious, and rightfully so."

Honestly, that was not the answer Inès had expected. Fleur had been her best friend since their first day at Beauxbatons, and while the two of them weren't always living on the right side of life, they had mostly followed a code. True, Fleur always had been really convincing - and it had been thanks to her that they had gotten out of several nasty situations - but as far as Inès knew, she had never once used her thrall that blatantly to her advantage.

"Okay I did not see that one coming." Inès grinned uncomfortably. "But, you know, they can't prove anything. It'll be fine. You're obviously sorry or you wouldn't be sitting here, this deflated of your natural flair."

Fleur smiled sadly at her friend, "I'm so sorry, Inès." She said quietly. "It will never happen again." Fleur buried her face in her hands and tried to repress a sob.

Inès nodded and engulfed her friend in a hug. This was obviously one of these "for better or for worse" moments.

"Also" Fleur whispered hesitantly "The first task will involve dragons."

Well, it can't get any worse, Inès thought and said: "Don't worry, I'll bring the burn salve."


	6. Chapter Six: Dreamless Sleep

**A/N: Here I am again, with the sixth chapter. I was quite anxious to upload again, and you have Peeves' Best Friend to thank for that, along with xtonguetied. (Whose story Once Upon A Time you really should check out.)**

**Thank you for your remaining interest.  
If you have any feedback, I always welcome it.**

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**FLEUR DE LA MER  
**

**CHAPTER SIX: Dreamless Sleep**

**HERMIONE (4th Year Dormitories, Sunday November 22nd, 03.07 pm)**

"Ginny, I saw the article already, stop shoving it in my face!" Hermione cried out in frustration. Ginny wasn't the first person to show her the article on Fleur, no, she was the fifth person, and the novelty of the article had disappeared when the second person showed it to her. The next person who handed her a _Daily Prophet _could expect it to burn fiercely with a simple flick of her wand.

It had all started with Parvati and Lavender excitedly discussing the article over breakfast. According to them it was _unacceptable _that Fleur was allowed to use her Veela powers on the judges without anyone interfering. They'd easily ignored the fact that there had been no proof whatsoever for Skeeter's claims.

Then came Ron, waving the article in every direction, loudly claiming that he had known all along that she was a Veela. If he and Harry would be speaking, he would have known this ages ago. But naturally, that fact too was ignored.

Next was Hagrid, who she ran into when she tried to escape the ignorance of her classmates, and he was concerned about her friendship with Fleur. Apparently, he had seen them together on several occasions, and now he was worried that Fleur was using her for information on Harry.

Hermione still bristled when she thought about that conversation. It had taken her thirty minutes to convince Hagrid that Fleur was not a manipulative bitch. Thirty minutes and he still didn't _really_ believe her. Seriously, what was wrong with everyone today? If she ever got her hands on that Skeeter woman, it wouldn't be her best day.

"Hermione.. listen to me, what do you actually know about her?" Ginny asked her. Luckily there was no one else in the room with them.

"I know that she is _not _ the person that Skeeter paints her as!" Hermione retorted, although she realized she didn't know much about Fleur.

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Ginny asked concerned "Look, she is totally trying something here, okay? I know that you _like _her and all that, but it doesn't hurt to ask her now, does it?"

"Ask her what, Ginny?" Hermione mocked loudly "Ask her if she ever used her thrall on a professor? I'm telling you, she is not like that! And I don't _like_ her! We are just friends!"

"Oh yeah, keep telling yourself that!" Ginny shook her head. "I saw the two of you together remember? And your face _always _lights up when Fleur enters a room. Did you even consider the fact that she might be using her thrall on you?"

"Enough! Ginevra! I thought you thought Fleur was nice?!" Hermione threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

"I never said that. Hermione. And I am just looking out for you." Ginny said calmly.

"Well.. don't!" Hermione yelled, and while she knew how stupid she sounded, she got up from her bed and left the dormitory, and Ginny, behind.

Maybe she didn't know much about Fleur, she thought as she walked down the stairs to the common room, but she did know that Fleur was funny and charming, polite and smart, beautiful and kind. What did it matter that her grandmother was a Veela?

This was stupid, Hermione thought barging through the common room, there was literally no point to this entire train of thought. Fleur was her friend, and she wasn't about to start doubting her because of one article. Especially after the load of crap Skeeter made up about Harry. She stormed through the Portrait, ignoring the Fat Lady's rants about being careful, and instead went down the stairs.

Mumbling about the stupidity of humankind, she ran face first into Harry. As usual these days, he looked about as happy as a melting snowman.

"Hermione?" He asked surprised, and she was tempted to ask if he thought she was Ron, but a split second later decided against it. Fragile as he was at the moment, bringing up Ron wasn't a particularly bright idea.

"Hi Harry." Hermione sighed deeply. "Were have you been?"

"Oh you know." Harry dodged the question. "Outside.."

Hermione sighed again and walked past her friend. She was about done with dragging him along with her when he didn't want to come with her. Which was why she was surprised to notice that he followed her all the way to the library. He dropped into a chair next to hers, took off his filthy glasses, polished them with his robes and said resigned "Hermione, I'm going to be facing a dragon for the first task."

Naturally, she thought he was joking. But since he wasn't laughing with her, she quickly stopped thinking that. "Wait, you are not kidding?"

"No." He said resignedly "I'm not. Hagrid showed me yesterday night. Hermione, I'm done for, I'm going to die."

"Harry, stop being so pessimistic." Hermione said curtly, feeling sorry for her tone immediately afterwards. "Look, we'll figure something out okay, there are many books about how to deal with dragons. All we need to do is get you a game plan."

She stood up and started searching the library for material on dragons. Amongst these hundreds and hundreds of books, there should be something. There _had _to be something. Oh dear. This was Norbert all over again.

Eventually Harry calmed down, which, considering the entire situation, was a good thing. But even after hours of searching, they didn't find anything useful Harry could do against a dragon. She almost suggested playing dead, but she didn't think that suggestion would be appreciated.

Nonetheless, Hermione didn't mind spending her entire Sunday on what she by now perceived to be a pointless search.  
She would do anything to stop herself from thinking about Fleur.  
Fleur Delacour, the breathtakingly beautiful French witch.  
Fleur Delacour, her friend.  
Fleur, who spent all her Fridays in detention for something she didn't want to tell Hermione about.  
Fleur, the Beauxbatons champion and Harry's rival.  
Fleur, who made her smile every time she showed up.  
Fleur, who could stop Ron from functioning properly whenever she was around.  
Fleur, who had snorted derisively at Professor Dumbledore.  
Fleur, who, according to Skeeter, had no morals.  
Fleur the Veela versus Fleur the girl.

Hermione would do anything to stop herself from thinking about Fleur who, coincidentally, was also going to be facing a dragon.

**FLEUR (Great Hall, Sunday the 22nd of October, 06.03 p.m.)**

Going to dinner was a bad idea. While she was still surrounded by her usual crowd of followers, the whispers were difficult to ignore. Still, Inès was right when she claimed Fleur needed to eat. So Fleur did what she always did when people started to whisper behind her back, she held her head high and ate elegantly, not even bothering to start a conversation with Inès in public. If the world wanted a dysfunctional Veela Ice princess, they were going to get one.

"Fleur, calm down." Inès whispered next to her in French "People are starting to freak, you're letting go of your thrall too much."

Fleur sighed, it was always the same. Why on earth couldn't she simply _not show it _when she was angry or upset. Everyone always seemed to know what she was feeling, and she didn't want to be an open book like that. Either they were literally stunned by her beauty, drooling all the way, or they were feeling uncomfortable because they could sense every single one of her emotions.. Merde. She sighed unnoticeably and put her fork down.

Looking up from her spaghetti bolognaise, she stared right into the brown eyes of Hermione Granger, who was sitting at the next table. The fourth-year was obviously thinking about something, as she was only moving food around on her plate, and not actually eating it. The girl was frowning at Fleur, but didn't appear to realize that Fleur was looking back. Which was weird, since Fleur wasn't too shy about it.

Inès poked her in the side. She was whispering something about staying calm, and gestured for Fleur to look to her right. That's where Fleur saw Jacques Gaillard laughing with a couple of Ravenclaws holding a piece of paper in his hands. Naturally, it was the article. He turned his head and looked her in the eyes triumphantly. His mouth formed the word _half-breed _and while he didn't say it out loud, she could hear his disdain in her head_. _

Fleur instantly leapt to her feet, and she could feel a rush of electricity going through her. The air felt like it was crackling and suddenly she could hear nothing except for the pounding of her own blood in her ears. It took a couple of seconds, and Inès pulling aggressively at her left arm, for Fleur to get back to reality. The people sitting around her were eerily quiet and when she looked at their faces, she was surprised - and a little shocked - to see fear in their eyes.

Fleur swallowed and took a deep breath, desperately trying to regain control over her thrall. Looking around, she was immensely glad to realize only the people close to her were affected by her sudden outburst, and most of the Ravenclaw table was still eating. Luckily, it seemed like none of the other tables had noticed a thing. Swiftly, she turned around, ignoring Inès' worried face, and left the Great Hall as fast as she could.

Fleur never noticed the look of shock on Hermione's face.

Storming out through the Hogwarts hallway, past the Grand Staircase, Fleur was on the brink of screaming out every frustration she felt as loudly as she could. What had just happened? She had never, not once, lost control that violently, and _of course _it had to happen right when people were already convinced she was an amoral Veela. Damn Gaillard, he had the most _horrid_ timing.

Suddenly, she got hit on the back of her head by a piece of stale bread. She drew her wand, wanting to curse the perpetrator to hell, secretly hoping it was Gaillard who had dared to come after her. But when she turned around in fury, she saw nobody. Fleur was standing all alone in the empty large entrance hall.

"Show yourself!" She yelled out in frustration. "I know you are 'ere!"

A mocking laugh coming from above caused her to look up and she saw a sly grinning poltergeist floating lazily around. Peeves, Fleur remembered from a conversation with Hermione, found everything funny. That included throwing stale bread at Fleur's head. She lowered her wand.

"Go away." Fleur said in disdain. "I am not in ze mood for jokes."

A second piece of stale bread flew inches past her head and Peeves laughed loudly, clearly ignoring everything Fleur had just said.

"I said, leave me alone." Fleur growled, she had had enough of everything.

"Ooooh" Peeves teased mockingly "What are you going to do Veela girl? No thrall to use on poor Peeves. No way to scare me away. I'm having too much fun anyways." He aimed another piece of bread at her head and hit Fleur right in the eye.  
"Score!" He yelled excitedly "10 points to Peeves, and zero for you, Veela girl!"

Furiously Fleur slashed her wand at Peeves, right-eye closed in pain, and her Skurge charm hit the Poltergeist right in his chest, sending him straight through the Slytherin-hourglass. Angrily and with her wand still raised she stormed through the front gate of the castle, hoping to find Peeves all the way on the grounds. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. Growling, she lowered her wand, this day was the worst.

Ugh, she was glad her mother had once taught her a charm to clear an area of ghosts. That one summer they had managed to attract a Poltergeist had been the worst.

When she arrived in her chambers, she slammed the door closed behind her and grabbed a piece of parchment lying on her couch. She sat down behind her desk and started writing a letter to Julie, who's decision to stay at Beauxbatons was more understandable by the day.

**FLEUR (Beauxbatons Carriage, Monday 23rd of November, 09.17 a.m.)**

_"Hypnotis Somnus_!" Fleur yelled and made the intricate wand movement belonging to the charm. Unfortunately, the only reaction she managed to get from the lizard in front of her was a simple hop, causing Fleur to sink to the ground in disappointment.

"It's not working." She sighed deeply to Inès, who was weirdly enough wearing her Beauxbatons Quidditch uniform and was helping Fleur practice for the First Task.

"You just need to try harder! All the books say it's an immensely difficult spell." Inès encouraged her. "When I asked Maxime about _Somnus_ yesterday, she simply shook her head and mumbled something about not having the capacities before walking on."

"That is not helping _at all_, Inès." Fleur spoke slightly annoyed.

"Oh come on." Inès grinned unrepentantly. "She was talking about _my _capacities, not yours. We all know she adores you." She scratched her head. "You didn't actually expect it to work after just trying for half an hour did you?"

Fleur scowled at her friend. "No, I didn't expect it to fully work yet. But I had hoped to have achieved some sort of effect by now." She gestured with her wand "It's not doing _anything._"

Rustling through the massive amount of notes she had taken on the spell, an entire night's effort, - researching sure had helped her forget about the article's negative input - she frowned as she read up on the spell once again.

"Hypnotis Somnus, or the spell of bewitched sleep, is a master-level charm, causing the intended target to fall under a deep, magical and dreamless sleep. Once under the charm, it is almost impossible to wake up without outside help. The target either needs to wake up by sheer willpower, or has to be woken up by a third party performing the counter-spell. Somnus is not an easy spell to cast, and unless you are a complete master of Charms, the intricate wand movement takes up valuable time in combat, which is why it is not often used in duels.  
While the spell does not easily backfire, if not performed properly the intended target might suddenly wake up. Other common side effects of a not properly performed Somnus are: irrational and moody targets, the caster experiencing sudden sleepiness, hallucinating targets, and permanent sleeping disorder." Fleur read out loud.

"It says nothing about the actual casting of the spell!" Fleur complained irritated. "I'm doing the wand movement, I'm saying the words. _Why doesn't it work?!"_

"Remind me" Inès yawned uninterestedly. "Why are we using lizards as targets again?" She was looking at the blue lizard trying to escape through the only open window in Fleur's chambers.

Fleur waved with her wand, not even bothering to look up, and the window closed with a bang right before the lizard made its escape. "Because they are tiny dragons. Now _focus_! I need this to work. What could I be doing wrong?"

Inès sighed deeply "Look, Fleur, I don't know, this spell is way above my head. Maxime isn't shaking her head for nothing whenever I ask her something _you_ need to know. Just.. go ask her for advice and stop being so damn stubborn."

Scowling again, Fleur practiced the movement once more. "I'm not asking Maxime."

"Okay then." Inès said, "I'm going to fly for a bit, you have fun practicing. It'll work eventually, don't give up."

Ignoring Fleur's accusing eyes, Inès pushed all her guilt aside and left Fleur's chambers to go and play Quidditch with some of her classmates who were, like her, ditching class.

Fleur on the other hand, spent the entire morning trying to figure out what she was doing wrong. By the time the afternoon classes had started, Fleur was literally no step closer to a solution.

Exhausted, she decided she needed a break. Putting the by now red lizard - he had mysteriously changed colour after Fleur had failed putting him asleep for the 31st time - in his cage, she left her chambers and went skulking around the Hogwarts grounds. Who knew, some fresh air might help.

She was glad to see that there was no one on the grounds except for a class whom were having Care Of Magical Creatures, and they were too busy trying not to get stung by gigantic scorpions, to notice Fleur walking around the lake. After the incident at dinner last night, she was - for the first time in her life - actively avoiding people.

It seemed that after the article, people no longer saw her as Fleur Delacour, Beauxbatons Champion, but as Fleur Delacour, evil, mean and dangerous Veela. And she wasn't even a full Veela! Yes, her thrall had always been strong compared to other Quarter-Veela's, but most of the time it was completely uncontrollable and mostly it was simply _there. _Fleur had learnt to live with it by now, and she had reached a point where she was able to more or less suppress the effects for the sake of the people around her.

Admittedly, sometimes, when she was angry or upset, she would let it roam free just to annoy her company. But that was more out of petty spite and it only happened like twice a year.

The whole Fournier incident had been a surprise to say the least. She had never expected it to work. But it had and now there was a bloody article going around saying that she was in the habit of manipulating teachers whenever she disagreed with them. Fleur scowled. If she managed to get her hands on Gaillard, she'd permanently stick him to the Pyramid of Giza.

The water surface broke as the Giant Squid decided to come to surface. Fleur completely understood why it was called that way, the beast was simply enormous.

Taking out her wand, she took a deep breath and started to slowly and surely cast the spell. "_HYPNOTIS SOMNUS" _Fleur yelled, but no visible spell left her wand and the Squid was having too much fun splashing around to fall asleep.

"It doesn't seem to be working, miss Delacour." A gentle voice said behind her.

"Well, zen you try it if you are so much better at it." Fleur turned around in annoyance, wishing she hadn't said anything when she realized that she'd just been rude to _the _Albus Dumbledore, who was smiling brightly at her.

He smiled warmly "I would, but I don't think the Squid would like me much after. And we were just getting along so well." He looked at Fleur over his glasses. "Do you know what you're doing wrong, Miss Delacour?"

"Non." Fleur sighed deflated. "I 'ave been practicing for hours and nothing 'appens. It simply doesn't work."

"Well," Dumbledore asked her, "Would you fall asleep if someone was yelling at you?"

Fleur frowned, what did that have to do with it? "Non. I would not."

Dumbledore folded his arms behind his body, and smiled at the French champion. "Miss Delacour, what makes a spell successful?" He asked sternly.

"Intent." She answered immediately. "You need to want it to 'appen or it won't."

"Correct." He chuckled lightly "Intent is very important when casting a spell, but it is not the only thing that matters. The goal you want to achieve, influences the way in which you cast your spell. Most of the time, yelling out your spell loudly and slashing ferociously with your wand will get you the result you desire because many curses or charms don't require anything else." The professor explained.

"For instance, if you want to sent someone flying through the air, yelling and slashing is perfect. But if you want someone to fall asleep, yelling would work counterproductively, because noise is what wakes a person up, just like aggressive movements do." Professor Dumbledore clarified, using an example Fleur could sympathise with, as she'd thought of doing exactly that to Gaillard just a few hours ago.

"You also need to stay calm, unnerved and quiet. No one is able to fall asleep if they are stressing over something and in this case you need to project your emotional state onto you target, so that it has the chance to fall asleep." The Hogwarts Headmaster continued, looking out pensively at the Lake, where the Great Squid was happily clapping two tentacles together.

He looked at Fleur and spoke lightly.  
"The _Hypnotis Somnus_ charm is a slow charm. It requires time, as falling asleep when not tired always does, it requires a soft and monotone voice, a slow but steady wand movement, a calm and quiet emotional state of the caster and the _intent _of wanting your target to fall asleep."

Dumbledore took his wand out of the left sleeve of his bright purple robes and raised it. Slowly but surely he started the wand movement and started casting Hypnotis Somnus in a monotone and slow voice. Over and over again he made the same movement with his wand, repeating _Hypnotis Somnus_ every time.

The wind gradually grew silent around them, birds stopped singing and the water stopped rushing to the shore. Eventually, everything around Fleur and Dumbledore was asleep. In awe, Fleur watched as the genius professor slowly lowered his wand.

"Zat was.. amazing." She couldn't help but whisper.

"Intent is not the only thing that matters, miss Delacour." Dumbledore winked kindly, "I hope this helps you a little further in casting - in what is without a doubt - a very difficult spell to cast, even for a master at charms."

He bowed towards her and started walking away, leaving Fleur in a world that was slowly waking up again.

**DUMBLEDORE (Headmaster's office, 09.01 p.m.)**

The knock on the door disturbed him out of his thoughts and he called for his guests to enter. The door opened up, and Olympe Maxime and Igor Karkaroff walked through. Both of them were clearly not amused by his summons.

Dumbledore did not smile at his fellow headmasters, nor did he welcome them in. He simply gestured for them to take a seat across his desk.

"What's the meaning of this Albus?" Karkaroff asked displeased. "Summoning us to your office as if we're misbehaving students of yours." Igor Karkaroff's eyes were cold but for all his false bravado, Dumbledore sensed fear in the former Death Eater.

"Oui, Dumble-door, I do not wish to be treated 'zis way." Maxime said dismayed. "Now why did you wish to see us?"

Dumbledore folded his hands and looked at the two people in front of him, then he smiled. "I simply wanted to remind you of your impartiality as judges during the Tournament."

"Remind of us of our impartiality?" Karkaroff said slightly insulted "You do not need to remind us Dumbledore, we're perfectly aware of that."

In a corner in the office, Fawkes started to emit an uncomfortable heat from his perch. The phoenix' dark black eyes seemed to stare right at Karkaroff and Maxime, making the latter shuffle uncomfortably in her chair.

"Well I was just worried a little, especially since both your champions are already aware of tomorrow's task." Dumbledore smiled lightly, leaning back in his chair. "I thought you might simply have forgotten that no one was allowed to inform them, it could happen to anybody."

Maxime and Karkaroff exchanged a nervous look, because while Dumbledore was smiling, the smile did not reach his eyes. No, his pale-blue eyes were freezing over and his face seemed oddly dark.

"I trust this will never happen again?"

**HERMIONE (Black Lake Shore, 10.23 p.m.)**

Hermione Granger didn't escape the castle often, but today she had done so. She simply had to get out, even if it was just for a walk. Skipping out on the curfew - something she rarely did - she had borrowed Harry's Invisibility Cloak and decided on a stroll by the lake.

Harry had been practicing non-stop on his summoning charm in empty classrooms all day, and she had to admit, it was finally amounting to something. But after five hours of giving encouragement and advice, she needed a breather. Truthfully, she thought Harry's plan was madness, but he was right when he had reminded her that all his other mad plans in the past had worked. And, truth be told, she had yet to come up with something better. Besides, what could go wrong with flying past a dragon?  
Except for a burning Harry obviously. Burning followed by imminent death.

Shaking off her dark thoughts, she kept on walking by the lake's shoreline. While the lake was gigantic, and she could in no way walk all the way around it, she didn't yet know when she was going to turn back.

A small light by the side of the lake, covered mostly by trees, drew her attention. Picking up her pace, she quickly walked over, wondering who else would still be out on the grounds so late at night. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks and held her breath.

Hermione was able to feel the magic in the area. Someone was performing some serious magic by the small, light blue light and that someone was Fleur Delacour.

Mesmerized she stared at the captivating beauty elegantly casting a spell. Her face was set in intense concentration as she slowly moved her wand. While Hermione could not hear the words Fleur was whispering, the air went quiet around her and the leafs on the trees stopped rustling.

She watched how Fleur lowered her wand and kneeled in front of a medium-size boulder in between the trees. Picking up something tiny and red in her hands, Fleur started to smile.

"What spell was that? What did you do?" The words left Hermione's mouth without thinking and she had let the Invisibility Cloak slip off her body.

Surprised, Fleur looked up and smiled as she recognized Hermione. Walking over, she showed the bushy-haired girl the tiny red lizard in her hands.

"I enchanted him to sleep." Fleur said almost relieved. "Isn't he beautiful?"

Frowning, she asked: "'Ermione, what are you doing out 'ere? Don't you 'ave a curfew?" Fleur put the lizard softly on the ground.

"Yes, but.. I needed to get out for a second." Hermione smiled apologetically "It has been a crazy day, so I borrowed Harry's Invisibility Cloak for a walk." She held up the silvery cloak, showing it to Fleur.

Feeling the soft fabric between her fingers, Fleur grinned. "I wish I 'ad some'zing like 'zis. Sneaking around would be so much easier."

Hermione hesitated, "Some people would think you wouldn't get in trouble anyway."

"People 'oo believe your _Daily Prophet _I imagine." Fleur spoke softly, still looking at the cloak.

Nodding, Hermione swallowed.

"So, 'Ermione, do you?" Fleur asked quietly, eyes focussed on the cloak.

"Do I what?" Hermione asked hoarse, but she knew what was coming.

"Do you believe ze article zat woman wrote on me?"

Fleur looked up for the first time, and Hermione found herself staring into Fleur's immensely deep blue eyes.

"No.. I don't" Hermione spoke softly, slightly hesitating. "I don't see how I could."

Fleur let go of the cloak, letting it drop to the ground, and before Hermione could react, Fleur's arms surrounded her, engulfing her in a hug.

"Merci." Fleur whispered intensely.

For the first time since the article came out yesterday morning, Hermione thought on how hard it would have been for Fleur. Somehow, she had not bothered to imagine that Fleur, who she had - ever since the first time they had met - perceived as this incredibly strong person, would suffer from gossip like the rest of the world. Hugging Fleur back, Hermione could hit herself for forgetting something that important.

"You smell like apples." Hermione said surprised as she let go of Fleur.

Grinning, Fleur sat down in the grass. Hermione didn't hesitate for a second and crawled next to the blonde. Banishing Ginny's _you like her_ from her head, she leaned into Fleur's comfortable warmth.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" asked Hermione quietly.

"Oui." Fleur said confidently. "Weirdly enough I am."

Suddenly, everything came pouring out and Hermione listened to Fleur talking about the last two days. On how Maxime had stormed in talking about dragons, on how she had figured out a way to get past the dragon, on the article, which had made Fleur's life horrible. On Gaillard's pestering, on the temporary loss of control of thrall and the shame and disappointment Fleur had felt. On the magic behind _Hypnotis Somnus _ and how Dumbledore had helped her figure it out.

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she let Fleur's stream of words flow over her while the two girls sat close to each other. And for a second there, she forgot the danger her ever getting closer friend was about to face.

Never mind tomorrow, Hermione thought, today was perfectly fine.


	7. Chapter Seven: The First Task

**A/N: WOW! One hundred followers! When I started writing this about a month ago, I had never expected a response like this. Thank you so much for your continued support. Really, it is thanks to you that I continue to write.**

**So here is chapter seven. A lot of effort went into this one and I consider it to the best one yet. Hopefully you think the same.**

**As usual a big thanks goes out to Peeves' Best Friend, who - yet again - performed miracles as my Beta.  
Huge thanks also go out to xtonguetied, who supported me 'till deep in the night (even though she was sleepy) as I was wrestling with the last part. **

**If you have any feedback, questions or remarks, please don't hesitate to contact me!**

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**FLEUR DE LA MER**

**CHAPTER SEVEN: The First Task**

**FLEUR (Beauxbatons Carriage, November 23, 07.30 a.m.)**

At dawn - after barely four hours of sleep - Fleur woke up. She was surprised that she felt so well-rested, since she had been practicing until deep in the night, long after Hermione had gone back to the castle. Laying in between the sheets, she realized that today was the day she was going to be facing a dragon. A real, fire breathing, people trampling, goblin eating, dangerously deadly dragon.

She smiled.

Pushing herself up, she stared at her bedroom door for a few seconds before she got up. After today, the whole world would know that she didn't just get where she was because of her looks, or worse, her heritage. Let's see someone accuse her of using her thrall on the judges while she was busy dodging a dragon's fire.

Hopping in the shower, all her worries disappeared along with the streams of water. Intensely massaging her head, she thought about the day. Classes were going to end at noon, with the task starting at precisely two o'clock. That left her with a couple of hours more to prepare. She didn't even want to think about not being able to enchant that dragon to sleep, because that meant actually attacking the bloody beast. Or, hopefully, managing to distract it for more than three seconds to reach whatever she had to reach. No. She was going to stay positive, this whole mad plan was going to work. It had to. Or this was her last day being alive and well.

Fleur got out of the shower, and dried herself off with a rather fluffy white towel. She absolutely loved her fluffy towels. It had been one hell of a battle - one she had eventually lost - those first years at Beauxbatons, to make sure the house elves kept her towels all silky. Eventually - and after much complaining - she had just given up and found a spell to charm them back to fluffy when they inevitably always turned up rough. Now discovering that, had been one hell of a day. She still had to smile whenever she thought about it. That discovery had been a very satisfying one, she thought as she dried her hair.

All dry, she carefully put on her uniform, and decided against tying her hair in her standard knot, instead Fleur tied it up in ponytail. It felt a little more free. Staring at herself in the mirror, she noticed that while she was feeling rested, her face looked anything but that. She blinked, trying to remember some sort of beauty spell, but eventually couldn't remember and just gave up. Poking her face, she sighed.

Walking out of her bathroom, she ran head first into Inès, who for some reason was pacing around Fleur's living room, looking all stressed out. Rubbing her painful elbow - it had nicked Inès - Fleur frowned.

"Inès, what the hell?" She said annoyed "Don't you knock anymore?"

"What? You're dressed aren't you?" Inès said, not caring about Fleur's disapproving tone. "Besides, you said I was always welcome."

"Oui, naturellement, but does it have to be so damn early?" Fleur asked, ignoring Inès' hurt look and instead walking over to the small terrarium, in which she had installed her red lizard. Picking the lizard up, she put him on her shoulder and looked at Inès.

"It's dragon day! I'm here to calm you down." Inès said happily, eyes focused on the lizard. "Also, are we keeping that now?"

"Oui. Isn't he cute?" Fleur smiled. "And I am perfectly calm, as is Ozymandias here."

Inès raised a mocking eyebrow. "Ozymandias? What kind of name is that for a lizard?"

"Ah good one." said Fleur haughtily, caressing the lizard's head. "Never heard of it? _'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings'_, it's from a Muggle poem I read once, it simply popped up in my head last night, and I decided it was perfect for this little man here, kingly as he is."

Actually, it had been Hermione's idea to name the lizard, and it had been Hermione who had softly quoted the poem last night, suggesting the name to Fleur. Who had instantly decided her fiery red lizard was a king of kings. She had quietly whispered _Ozymandias _out loud and she had instantly found it perfect.

Even more perfect had been the hug she had given to Hermione as a thanks, but that was an entirely different matter.

"Well, you don't have to worry. As promised, I brought the burn salve. I had to raid the infirmary though. If anyone asks, it wasn't me." Inès spoke amusedly - breaking and entering was her specialty - shaking the bag for Fleur to see.

"I'm not going to need the burn salve." Fleur said, annoyed at the idea alone. "I'm on my way to winning this thing, remember?" She pointed her wand at Ozymandias the lizard and slowly started enchanting him to sleep. After the lizard's breathing had slowed down, she looked up triumphantly into Inès' eyes.

"Well you are saying that now, wait until you try that on a real one. Much _much _bigger those are." Inès said indifferently. "Trust me, you'll be glad I broke some rules to get you that salve."

Fleur smiled at Inès, secretly glad her friend was here to keep her down to earth. She put her lizard back into his terrarium and frowned at a sudden realization. "Wait, didn't your class start ten minutes ago?"

Scratching her head, Inès looked kind of guilty. "Ehm. Oui?"

"Inès, for Merlin's sake! Maxime is already annoyed with your Quidditch stunt from yesterday!" Fleur shook her head disapprovingly, remembering how Inès had left her to go and play the game with some other classmates. Naturally, halfway through their practice, Maxime had showed up, and it wouldn't be Beauxbatons if not everyone in the carriage had known every single detail on the tantrum Madame Maxime had thrown within the hour.

Fleur quickly pushed her friend out of the door "Go to your class. I'm not going to be responsible for another one of your detentions." Truly, this was turning out to be some sort of habit.

She walked Inès all the way to class, ignored her when she wished Fleur good luck, and then decided to go and grab a late breakfast. Maybe after she could try and enchant last flying horse before she moved up to dragons. Just one.  
Fleur whistled as she walked Hogwarts' hallways. Yes, dragons beware. It was a good day indeed.

Several hours, and an unexpected nap in an empty classroom later, she ran into Madame Maxime. She had just changed into the rather sporty uniform all the champions had gotten for the First Task. While trying to figure out if it was fireproof - which it wasn't - Fleur had already managed to burn a hole in the fabric.  
After a dull conversation - Maxime was once again freaking out - headmistress and student made their way over to the dragons' enclosure. Fleur was barely listening to her Professor softly and rapidly giving tips. All she had to do was stay calm and everything would be fine. Dumbledore had been clear, there was no stress allowed while performing the spell. Nearing the compound, she could see the Hogwarts' headmaster talking to Ludo Bagman in front of a tent. After a hurried "bon chance" Maxime mysteriously disappeared beside her, and Fleur entered the tent alone under the investigating gaze from Dumbledore.

The entire school was in an uproar, with people barely able to contain their excitement as everyone slowly moved over to the compound. Looking from in between two tent flaps, Fleur watched as Hogwarts', Beauxbatons' and Durmstrangs' students all tried to find a good spot. Oblivious to what was going to happen, they were all clearly looking forward to their free and exiting afternoon.

Turning around, she observed the other champions. Diggory was pacing worriedly around the tent, Krum was sulkily ignoring everyone around him and Potter was - well - talking to the tent.

Although, on second thought, he was talking to someone on the other side of the tent wall, but he still looked positively ridiculous doing so.

Suddenly, Hermione appeared through an opening, throwing her arms around Harry's neck. In a high-pitched voice, she wished him good luck, and Fleur secretly found herself wishing someone was here to wish her good luck as well. For the first time she was feeling nervous and she could feel the blood withdrawing rapidly from her face. But while Hermione was still intensely hugging Harry, her warm eyes found Fleur and she gave her an assuring nod. Her mouth formed the words "You'll do great." before she disappeared again as Ludo Bagman loudly entered the tent.

"Hello everyone!" he boomed happily "Time to fill you in! So, basically, your task is to get a _golden egg_ and to do that, you need to pass - err - something. Something that you will find out in a minute!" He swiftly put his right hand in his robes and pulled out a silk purple sack and shook it in front of the champions' eyes.

Did Fleur just imagine a muffled screech coming from inside that sack? She frowned. That could not be good.

"Anyways, I'm going to be offering each of you this little bag here, from which each of you will take a small model of what you are going to be facing! Are you all ready?" His face was lit up in excitement as his eyes scanned the tent, and, taking the silence as an answer, he held out the sack to Fleur.  
"Ladies first" He smiled happily.

Fleur swallowed her fears, and put her right hand into the sack, grabbing the first thing she touched, she withdrew her hand and showed the group what she was holding. It was a perfect model of a dragon. A smooth scaled, green dragon with smoke coming out of its tiny nostrils. It was about the size of Ozymandias.

"Ah." Bagman grinned. "The Common Welsh Green, of course the real one that you will be facing outside, will be a little bigger."

Fleur had been right about Krum knowing about the dragons, because he didn't blink once as he pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. Instead he stared stoically at the dragon and took a step back.  
Diggory was as pale as a sheet when he pulled out the Swedish Short-Snout, realizing that he was going first. He visibly swallowed as Bagman moved the sack to the last champion.  
Harry Potter sighed deeply - the first of the champions to make a noise - as he pulled out a rather vicious looking black dragon. Merlin. Was she happy she didn't have that one. Potter looked up from the dragon in his hands, and his eyes found hers. She tried to smile, but for some reason, her face didn't want to do that. Instead it just sort of twitched and Harry Potter broke away the stare.

"Now that all of you have picked a dragon, we are ready to start." Bagman said, for the first time sounding a bit serious. "Mister Diggory, you're up first. Second is miss Delacour, next mister Krum and last is Harry. When you hear a whistle, you come out and _don't _forget about the golden egg. Good luck everyone!"

Excitedly he bounced out of the tent, turned around last minute and gestured for Harry Potter to come forward. Whispering ferociously to the boy, Fleur frowned at Bagman. Then she took a deep breath. She desperately needed to bring her heartbeat down.

When the whistle went, Bagman jumped up and ran out of the tent, only moments before a rather green looking Cedric Diggory made his way to his dragon.  
The sudden cheering of the crowd indicated that he had met the wild beast. Was this the last time she had seen the Hufflepuff champion?

Waiting for her turn was the worst thing Fleur ever had to do. All she could think about was how in a couple of minutes, she was going to be standing eye to eye with a creature so powerful, strong and enormous that it could probably eat her in one big swallow. She shut out all the noise - the cheering, Bagman's commenting, the dragon's roars - and instead started pacing as Diggory had done. So much for staying calm.

When the whistle came, fifteen minutes later, she was trembling from top to bottom. Clutching her wand in her right hand, she held her head high and left the tent. She walked past the trees and through an opening in the enclosure.

Fleur swallowed, for a second there, she was blinded by the sunlight. But then she saw hundreds and hundreds of unknown faces staring down at her. Their mouths were all open, indicating that they were yelling, cheering, calling out her name. But she didn't hear a thing. All she could hear was a heavy breathing. Heaving breathing and her heart pounding in her ears. Focus, Fleur thought, focus. Slowly, but surely, her hearing returned.

She blinked and her attention switched from the crowd to the gigantic Common Green Welsh at the far end of the enclosure. The dragon stretched its long neck, gazing at the newcomer and showed its dangerously long fangs. Slowly, the dragon planted its left front leg on a large boulder to its left, spreading its wings in an impressive and threatening display of strength. Then, with an almighty roar, the Common Welsh sent a stream of fire into the air.

Fleur swallowed, suddenly, she realized her problem.

The noise.

There was too much bloody noise.

People were cheering and crying and yelling and the dragon could hear _everything_. How on earth was she supposed to enchant it to sleep? She needed silence. Dead silence. The massive hole in her plan was suddenly so clear. She did not know how she hadn't seen this before. She cursed loudly in French, and as a reaction the dragon aggressively flapped its wings.

The Common Green Welsh kept her eyes on Fleur, and Fleur could just see the dragon calculating what she might do next. Well, luckily for the dragon - and quite awfully for her - she didn't know yet.  
As the Welsh sent a first jet of fire in her direction, she ducked behind a rock, the flare missing her by a hair.

Calm down, Fleur thought, for Merlin's sake, calm down. She took a deep breath and raised her wand. First things first, thought Fleur. She needed silence.

"Repello Sonitus" She yelled, waving her wand. Almost instantly, a cone of silence formed around the compound, cancelling out all the sound from the outside. Now, all she could hear was her own breath, and the dragon striding around, protecting its eggs. She took a peak from behind her rock, and could see the nest of eggs, with a golden one in the middle, clearly from her hiding spot. The dragon - fiercely protecting them - was blocking her path.

The green dragon took a deep breath, and instantly knowing what would come next, Fleur ran, ducking behind a new boulder. Right on time, a powerful stream of fire melted the rock she had been behind mere seconds before.

Gasping for breath, she fell to her knees and closed her eyes. It was now or never. In and out, she just needed to breathe in and out. Finally ready - it felt like centuries had passed since she had entered the enclosure - she stepped from behind her rock and aimed her wand at the Common Green Welsh.

She blinked. Unnerved, she started the wand sequence, eyes focused on the mighty beast in front of her. She had to stare it down, or it wouldn't work.

"_Hypnotis Somnus." _Fleur said solemnly, monotone and relaxed.

She kept waving her wand, she kept saying the spell. Her mind was clear, her eyes fixed. She would not falter, she would not fail.

"_Hypnotis Somnus."_

Come on, she thought, fall asleep. Wasn't that dragon tired yet?

"_Hypnotis Somnus._"

It had never taken this long before. She started the sequence again. And again. And again. Over and over. She would not stop until the dragon fell asleep.

"_Hypnotis Somnus._"

Fleur willed to beast to tire. All that gigantic lizard wanted to do was sleep. Her eyes never left the dragon. She could not give up now. One mistake and it would attack.

"_Hypnotis Somnus."_

Finally, the dragon started to move in sequence with the spell. No longer puffing fire, it sort of got into a trance, its eyes locked with Fleur's.

"_Hypnotis Somnus._"

She said solemnly again. She smiled inside when she saw the eyes of the dragon slowly close. Come on, just one more. She felt exhausted, the magic was draining her. She had no idea how much longer her Cone of Silence was going to last. It could fail any second and unless her spell was complete, all the dominos would drop. The sound would return, the dragon would shake off the trance, and then she would - in all likelihood - die.

"_Hypnotis Somnus."_

Abruptly the dragon sunk to the ground. Its eyes firmly closed. It was asleep.

Relieved, Fleur grinned. It had worked! Still holding her wand, she started running towards the nest. No longer paying attention to the dragon, she jumped over one of its legs.

Later, when she thought back on the moment, she realized that that was where she had - essentially - failed. She should have kept her eyes on the Common Green Welsh, because if she had done so, she would have seen the flare of fire coming her way.

Apparently, sleeping dragons snore. And from that moment on, she would never ever forget that snoring dragons send out flares of fire.

The flare caught her, and before she knew it, she was aflame. Instinctively, she cast _Aguamenti_ on her clothes. Sprinting, she reached for the egg, her clothes - despite their wetness - still smoldering. Dragon's fire was quite effective. She caught the egg and ran out of the Common Green Welsh's reach as fast as she could.

Casting a _Finite _on her Cone of Silence, she let the crowd's roaring flow over her. She held her egg high, and felt immensely proud as she finally got the recognition she had so desperately craved for the past years. For all she knew, she had failed miserably, but in her eyes, she had won.

**RON (Dragon's Enclosure, November 23, 02.47 pm.)**

Ron Weasley shuffled around in his spot, so far, the first task had been everything he had hoped for. Diggory's face almost got burnt off while trying to distract his dragon, Fleur Delacour had for some reason still been beautiful while on fire and Krum - as expected - had been amazing. At least Krum had been on the offensive. Transfigured stones and sleeping dragons were cool and all that, but Krum had actually _attacked_ his dragon. Shame that half the eggs got trampled though, the look on his brother Charlie's face had been one of utter sadness.  
Nonetheless, if it were up to him, he had found his winner already.

Next to him, Hermione was almost literally pulling her hair out. He knew why. It was Harry's turn. He knew they had been practicing something for the past couple of days.

Hermione pulling her hair out was something new though, but she probably had no nails left after Fleur Delacour had faced her dragon. Girls. She had been muttering several unrecognizable things while the French witch had tried to enchant that green dragon of hers. He had to admit, it was some bloody advanced magic the girl had pulled off. From all the stories he had picked up over the years by listening to Charlie, it was probably the smartest tactic.

It made him wonder what Harry was going to do. The whistle went, and unknowingly he leant forward, His eyes fixed on the small figure that was Harry Potter currently entering the arena.

Of all the dragons Harry could have gotten, he picked the scariest one. Dangerously black, a deadly spiked tail that could knock a hole in the ground without even trying and those fiery _evil_ yellow eyes. Yeah, he did _not _want to be down there right now. Harry could be champion all he wanted, Ron was damn sure that he himself was never ever _willingly_ going to be facing that _monster._

"Oh God." He heard Hermione gasp beside him. "He's going to die."

"He'll be fine." Ron said, more to himself than to Hermione, but he wasn't too sure about it.

Harry Potter, his former best friend of four years, raised his wand and shouted very clearly "_Accio Firebolt". _Then the boy waited.

Ron frowned, what was he doing? He couldn't just keep standing there, the Horntail would attack and Harry would be done for.

But standing there was exactly what Harry was doing. The dragon gazed at him lazily, and lucky for him, she had decided that Harry was not a threat. Ron wondered if the Basilisk had thought the same, two years ago.

Then, Harry's Firebolt appeared out of nowhere. He heard Hermione sigh in relief and realized that this had been the plan all along. Wait, how could they have a plan? Did Charlie tell Harry like he told him? That didn't seem like his brother.

Harry grabbed the Firebolt out of the air, jumped on it, and pushed himself off. Mere seconds later, he was only a dot in the sky. Was he trying to run or something? But next thing Harry dived down almost vertically, Ron's eyes shot to the Horntail, who took a deep breath and spat out a jet of fire so hot it seemed like it could melt mountains. Holding his breath, he watched how Harry dodged the flare at the last second, which caused the Horntail to let out an infuriated roar. Served it right for trying to fry his best mate.

At this point, Harry teasingly flew circles around the Horntail's head, who was following him with furious eyes. Again, it opened its mouth and another flare of fire shot in Harry's direction, and once again Harry dodged. But then Hermione screamed beside him in shock, the Horntail's tail had grazed the dark-haired boy's shoulder and for a second there, Harry staggered. But then he soldiered on and flew faster and higher than ever.

The Horntail, frustrated out of its mind, stretched its neck and still wasn't able to reach the annoying, flying boy. Suddenly, Ron watched as it stretched out its wings, and it stood up on its back legs, all ready to fly, flapping the great, dark, leathery wings which were blocking the view of half the crowd, but then Harry plummeted to the ground, and before anyone knew what was going on, he grabbed the egg and sprinted away on his broom as fast as he could.

The dragon keepers - including his brother - ran forward and fired Stunning Spells at the dragon in unison, who slowly blinked its eyes and fell to the ground, missing the nest of eggs by a hair. Which, Ron guessed, was a good thing, since they already lost some rather precious dragons eggs. Yeah okay, Krum had been amazing but Harry had been brilliant.

Ron jumped to his feet, followed closely by an almost white Hermione, and started making his way down to the entrance of the enclosure. For some reason, he couldn't stop grinning and the crowd was going crazy around him.

The same crowd which was now blocking his path. Ron cursed and tried to push the people aside, but the large Durmstrang students glaring at him made Ron change his mind, and instead he turned around and followed Hermione who was crawling underneath elbows and arms to reach the first aid tent where all the champions were being patched up.

Spotting the large white tent, he saw Hermione darting in and ran in after her.

"Harry! You were amazing!" He heard her say squeakily. "You were brilliant, you really were!"

Ron swallowed, he hadn't actually thought beyond the point that he simply needed to see Harry. Now that he was actually staring at his friend, he didn't really know what to say.

"Yeah mate." He spoke seriously, meaning every word. "You really were." Ron stared uncomfortably at his toes. "The bloody madman who put your name in the Goblet is trying to kill you." He muttered out the words, realizing what a complete git he had been in the past weeks.

Harry stared at him and stayed silent for such a long time that Ron thought he'd ruined everything. He opened up his mouth, ready to apologize.

But then Harry spoke. "Forget it." He smiled at Ron. "It's okay, forget it."

Ron started grinning, relieved, and Harry grinned back. It felt like the last couple of weeks hadn't happened at all, and they had always been friends. As it should have been.

Then, Hermione ruined the moment, "You _idiots!_" She shouted loudly and angry tears formed in her eyes. Just when Ron was going to say something, she gave him a tight hug and he could smell her hair for a second before she let go again and did the same to Harry. Next thing he knew, Hermione had disappeared.

"Bloody mad." He shook his head in disbelief, secretly glad. "Come on mate, they're about to hand out your scores."

**HERMIONE (Black Lake Shore, 9.23 p.m.)**

It had been a crazy day. Completely, totally and utterly _crazy. _She was feeling so many things at once, it was exhausting.

First of all, Harry was alive. She did not see that one coming. Honestly, she had been scared out of her mind the entire time he was in that enclosure. The time that it had taken for the Firebolt to show up had seemed like an eternity. By then, she had already had four heart attacks and a stroke. Okay, maybe she hadn't, but she had been freaking out. When that dragon had hit Harry's shoulder, she'd almost lost her voice thanks to all the screaming.

Secondly, Ron and Harry had finally made up. _Finally. _After a whole month of intensely avoiding every situation in which those two might be together, everything was back to normal. They were infuriating, her friends, infuriating, childish, stupidly ignorant and such _boys_ and she couldn't help but love them to death. So _obviously_ she started crying when they finally forgave each other and _naturally_ she had fled the scene as fast as she could. There was no way in hell she was letting the two boys see her cry.

Thirdly, at the highly awaited Gryffindor Common Room Party, she had finally gotten her hands on the entrance to the kitchen. Fred and George - in their euphoria over Harry's first task - had slipped up. Finally she was able to free the house elves. A cause that had been pushed to the background a little over Harry's latest drama, but now that the second task was months away, she could finally spend a little more time on S.P.E.W. Which excited her greatly. Even Fleur, who had figured out where the kitchens were after a mere week, had - teasingly - refused to tell her where she could find the entrance.

Which brought her to the greatest feeling of them all, the one that overshadowed all the other feelings. Fleur.  
Merlin be damned, for once, Ginny had been right. Ginny bloody Weasley had been right.

When she had seen Fleur enter the compound, her heart had stopped and her breathing had hitched.  
When the first flare of fire had missed Fleur by a hair, she had chewed off all her nails. Something she never did as she found it an horrendous habit.  
And when Fleur had been - even if it had been for only a second - on fire, she'd had to muffle a scream and she'd thought she was going to pass out. Only to be flooded with the most intense relief she had ever felt when Fleur had raised her golden egg over her head.

She liked Fleur. She, Hermione Granger, liked Fleur.

Fleeing the common room and her dormitory - Parvati and Lavender had these wild plans of discussing Krum for the entire night - she had borrowed Harry's Invisibility Cloak for the second time in two days to escape the castle while curfew was in act.

Walking the same route she had done last night, she sighed. She didn't actually know what she was doing. According to Ginny, Fleur had been flirting with her. Did that mean she felt the same way? Did that mean that she stood a chance? Oh dear. She had no idea how this all worked.

Wait. Fleur was a _girl_. Hermione frowned. Did this mean she liked girls? She gasped in exasperation. This made no sense. Wouldn't she have _known_ this before? Wouldn't there have been signs or something? Why did she miss something this important about herself? Well, in her own defense, she had never been in love before.

She snorted. She had gone from 'liking Fleur' to 'in love with Fleur' in less than a minute. This _seriously_ made no sense to her.

Books, books were easy. Books could tell you everything. Books helped her so many times. They would help her now! There had to be a book somewhere on all of this in the library. But, would there be? She didn't actually know what the whole wizarding world thought on this girl-likes-girl thing.

Muttering something about the unlikelihood of finding a book like that, she bumped into someone, and fell over. She scrambled to keep herself covered up with the cloak, Hermione Granger didn't generally get caught sneaking out of the castle past curfew. She inwardly cursed her own stupidity for not paying attention Holding her breath, she heard the other person say:

"Ello? Is someone 'zere?"

Oh for crying out loud. Did she, of all people, just run into Fleur?

"'Ermione, is 'zat you?" She heard Fleur ask hesitantly.

In a split second she decided against pretending she wasn't there - she was a Gryffindor after all - and stood up, letting the Invisibility Cloak slip off of her body.

"Hey." She said softly and slightly embarrassed.

"Bonsoir." Fleur smiled lightly at Hermione. "We need to stop running into each o'zer like 'zis."

She was no longer wearing the champion's uniform, but was wandering around in Muggle jeans and sneakers, and for the first time ever, Hermione saw her with her hair down. She is stunningly beautiful, Hermione thought, how did I not see this before?

But she had, she remembered. And instead her eyes dwelled to the burn on Fleur's hand. Instantly she remembered that Fleur had faced a _dragon_ during the afternoon.  
Her memory flooded of a Fleur on fire casting water at herself.

"You could have died!" Hermione suddenly blurted out. More than before, she realized how lucky Fleur had been.

"But I didn't." Fleur grinned and her eyes twinkled at Hermione. "Instead, if I say so myself, I was quite amazing."

"You could have died!" Hermione repeated. "You could have died and I didn't even.." Stopping mid-sentence, she stopped. What was she about to say? _I didn't even get to tell you that I like you_? Yeah, that was not going to happen.

"You didn't?" Fleur asked confusedly. "You didn't what?"

"I didn't even wish you good luck." lied Hermione.

"Oh." Fleur frowned. "Zat is okay. I forgot some'zing too."

"You did?" Hermione asked surprised. "What did you forget?"

Fleur smiled lightly, her eyes showing only the slightest sign of nervousness, before she took a deep breath, took a step forward and hugged Hermione.

She's smelling like apples again, Hermione thought, but then Fleur kissed her and her mind went blank.


	8. Chapter Eight: On Eggs and House Elves

**A/N: Chapter eight took a bit longer than expected, but here it finally is. This "little" thing - it is officially the longest chapter to date - has given me quite the headaches. Nonetheless, I managed to get an okay feeling on this chapter. As usual I have to thank xtonguetied and Peeves' Best Friend for their beta'ing efforts. If it weren't for them I probably would have given up a long time ago.**

**Exams are about two weeks away and I haven't quite done anything yet. I'm currently struggling with 1/3 of chapter nine. It is completely planned out but writing some parts is proving to be rather difficult. I hope I can get it done before exams start but I think my updates will slow down for a little while, since you know, passing my finals is - weirdly enough - still a priority. **

**Once again, thank you for your continued interest. If you have any questions or remarks, you are always welcome to shoot me a PM, I'm always willing to discuss things.**

* * *

**FLEUR DE LA MER  
**

**CHAPTER EIGHT: On Eggs and House Elves**

**FLEUR (Transfiguration Class, November 26th, 10.33 a.m.)**

"Obviously, we will not be practicing the full transformation of humans into animals. While I know for certain that this is still an active part of the curriculum at for instance the Durmstrang Institute, here at Hogwarts we stay safely in the theoretical. Miss Martin, what might be the reason for only studying the theory behind full human-to-animal Transfiguration?"

Professor McGonagall stood at the front of her packed classroom. Her usually very small 7th year class - few students went for a N.E.W.T. - had almost quadrupled in size when the foreign students had joined in. While only a quarter of the Beauxbatons students took the advanced Transfiguration class, every last one of the pupils from Durmstrang was for some reason required by their Headmaster to take the course. It had gotten so unmanageable that she now taught not one but _two _seventh year classes.

Her piercing eyes gazed over her glasses at the students in front of her, and focused on the head of the one French witch who had managed to doze off during her class.

"Inès." Fleur whispered intensely to her friend at her side. "Inès, she's talking to you."

The brown-haired witch looked up all confused, her eyes flying all over the place and, irked by her friend's disinterest in the class, Fleur sighed.

"Miss Martin, it would be much appreciated if you would bother to stay awake during my class." Professor McGonagall spoke ill-humoured, frowning disapprovingly. "Now who can tell me why we will not be transfiguring anyone into a ferret today?"

"A full transformation is an incredibly difficult undertaking." Fleur answered when everyone in the room stayed eerily quiet. "It takes a lot of practice and some'zing can go wrong at any given time."

Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly. "Correct. A full human-to-animal transformation - and beware, we are not even talking about Animagi here - is a very complicated and technical procedure. It can take months, sometimes even years, to completely master it. Even if you understood everything perfectly, the slightest flaw in movement or pronunciation could crush the insides of the person you are trying to transfigure."

Fleur listened intently to the professor explaining the dangers of human transfiguration, and quickly wrote down the famous examples of transfigurations gone wrong.

The professor was pacing up front, trying to explain the process to her pupils.  
"Now, let's imagine for a second that you are able to perform the spell perfectly. Before you could start casting, it would still require intense research, as each person is unique, and hence requires a different approach. Taking all of that into consideration, it is impossible to _simply_ transfigure someone into something else."

Professor McGonagall continued: "To keep it easy: most of the time - if you want to transfigure a human into an animal - you keep their personality in mind. In your head, you might link an incredibly nice and friendly person to, for instance, a rabbit. That would make it much easier to transfigure said person into a rabbit, than it would be if you tried to transform them into a snake."

Fleur watched as the professor glanced at her watch and closed her book, deciding to bring an end to the lesson.

"The theory of all this can be found on page 246 to 251 in your textbooks. As homework, I want you to read the entire chapter and write a piece of at least 2000 words on the basic principles of human transfiguration. Next class we will start practicing partial human-to-animal transformation as you all ought to grasp the basics behind the spellwork by now."

The students in the classroom closed their books and started packing their bags as Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk. Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of scraping chairs and talking people.

Fleur delicately put her books in her dark green bag and rolled up the parchment on which she had taken her notes. Shoving Inès - who had dozed off again - she glared at Gaillard as he walked arrogantly past her desk.

"Miss Delacour, could you stay for a moment please?" Professor McGonagall called right as Fleur was about leave the classroom. Indicating that Inès should go on ahead to the next class, Fleur stayed behind as the last student left.

She walked up to the professor's desk, and stopped right in front of it. McGonagall took of her glasses and looked the Beauxbatons Champion in the eye.

"First of all, congratulations on your performance during the first task, it was quite astonishing to see you perform a perfect sleeping spell." Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at the blond girl.

"Now, I have to say, I was rather impressed with your recent essay on the Principle of Artificianimate Quasi-Dominance. Your descriptions were rather vivid which is why I wondered if you ever tried your hand at advanced conjuring? I cannot imagine you got all of these examples out of your textbook?" The grey-haired professor asked curiously.

Fleur blushed, the first time she had tried to conjure something, it had gone horribly wrong. And she had used that experience as an example in her essay.

"Oui." She answered politely. "Inanimate objects are quite easy, but 'ze moment I try to conjure up a living animal, 'zings go wrong. I 'ave 'ad quite the mutants 'opping around my living room.. 'Ze worst one was possibly when I tried to conjure an 'amster."

Fleur frowned deeply, remembering the incident vividly. "It came out as a fish wi'z fur."

"Ah yes." McGonagall smiled, "That can happen. The moment the mind wanders while conjuring, you have failed."

The professor folded her hands, "Anyway, I was glad to see you back in my class today. While I know that the champions don't actually have to follow lessons - which I find a ridiculous notion - I am pleased that you haven't missed a class except for the one before the Task. You have shown quite some promise in both Transfigurations and Charms. And I heard from Professor Moody that you are equally good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. So, if you need any extracurricular help with my subject, you are always welcome to come to me, I'll be glad to answer any questions you may have."

Fleur smiled happily at the Transfigurations Professor sitting behind her desk.  
"Zank you." Fleur said gratefully. "I 'ave been working on perfecting my conjuring for a while now, when I stumble upon an issue I will be sure to ask for your aid."

"Yes, you do that." McGonagall nodded and then asked curiously: "May I enquire what your plans are after you finish Beauxbatons, Miss Delacour?"

Fleur raised an eyebrow, not expecting that question from a Hogwarts Professor. "Uhm - I don't know yet. I would love to find some work zat allows me to use my Charms to ze fullest. I mean.. I like Transfiguration, but my true passion is Charms.." Fleur paused, thinking about all the leaflets back at Beauxbatons.

"I 'ave been 'zinking of taking up a job as a curse-breaker." admitted Fleur.

"Ah yes, I might imagine that anything less exciting will not be an option for a former Triwizard Tournament Champion." Professor McGonagall chuckled. "Well, you sure have proven that you are up to the task, so to speak, thus I am sure you will be able to take any job you want."

Fleur smiled at the compliment, and quickly left the classroom as the professor dismissed her. Closing the door behind her, she started walking through the empty hallways. Supposedly, everyone was in class.

The sun shone on her face through the glass windows on the side, and staring outside, Fleur had to admit that her life had gotten a lot better after the first task. The aftermath of the article was finally behind her, as everyone who had believed it had come to accept that Fleur did not get into the Tournament because she had Veela'ed her way past the Goblet. Not that "to Veela" existed as a verb, but it hadn't been the weirdest thing she had heard over the last couple of days so Fleur had let it slide.

And even better, after she had shown that she could best a dragon, Gaillard had kept to himself. Most of the Beauxbatons students at Hogwarts had turned against him - he who had dared to insult their champion - and now he and his tiny fraction of followers had taken to sitting at the Slytherin table. Which - as Fleur figured - was where he belonged. He and his pureblood buddies could go to hell for all she cared. And to think this all started with him asking her out. She shuddered.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be in class?" She heard someone say behind her and instantly she smiled. _Hermione_.

"Aren't you?" She turned around to face Hermione and grinned widely at the girl she had kissed two days ago.

Hermione smiled and waved the slip of parchment in front of the silvery-haired blonde's face. "Professor McGonagall wishes to speak with me."

"Oui? I wonder why, but zen again, 'oo wouldn't want to speak with you?" Fleur moved closer to Hermione, and after glancing to make sure that no one was around, she lightly brushed her lips over Hermione's. Leaning in deeper, she could vaguely taste the tea Hermione always drank for breakfast.

Breaking away from the kiss, she looked into the girl's auburn eyes. Mesmerized by the tiny specks of gold, she asked softly. "Did you know zat depending on ze light, your eyes change colour from zis deep brown to a beautiful maroon?"

Hermione blushed, causing Fleur to chuckle.

"I should have known you were this cheesy romantic person." Hermione laughed and as a reaction Fleur flashed her teeth in a wide grin.

Hermione smiled and shuffled around nervously. "Look, I have to go, I'm already late for Professor McGonagall. Let's see each other tonight okay?"

And before Fleur could react, the brown-haired girl hesitantly pressed a short kiss on her lips and ran off.

As she watched Hermione disappear in the distance, Fleur sighed and decided to go to the carriage.

Hermione had been on her mind ever since she had gotten out of the compound, and after she had finally kissed the girl by the side of the lake, it had only gotten worse. Truly, she was glad that she had kissed Hermione, and even happier when the girl had kissed her back, but it was obvious that the girl was a little freaked out about everything, and too damn proud to talk to her about it. Nonetheless, it was hard to find a moment in which they were truly alone. But, it had only been two days, so, she didn't _really _have something to worry about now did she? Seriously though, they needed to have a conversation about where they stood. Right now, they were in the vague and grey zone where all undefined things resided.

Pushing open the door of her living room, she scowled as she saw the golden egg sitting on her coffee table. These days, if she wasn't thinking about Hermione, she was thinking about the egg and the egg was giving her headaches.

She had first opened the egg in the middle of the night, and consequently woken up the entire carriage. Inès and Isabella had stormed in, thinking she was getting murdered. It had been quite the awkward scene: Inès and Isabella - with hair in every direction and their wands drawn - ready to attack any perpetrator threatening their friend, and Fleur, standing in her pink pyjamas, holding a golden, screeching egg in her hands.

The pyjamas had been a gift from her grandmother, but they looked absolutely ridiculous, so it had been no surprise when Inès had burst into laughter.

Fleur had been slightly insulted when they had told her that they had thought Gaillard was attacking her. Did they think she couldn't handle herself or something? She _had _beaten a dragon after all, or - as Inès thought about it - put a dragon to bed.

Nevertheless, the egg gave her headaches. She couldn't help but recognize that screeching from somewhere, she just didn't know _from _where. Obviously stored somewhere at the far back of her head, she couldn't reach the information she wanted. She had had several moments where she had almost said it out loud - the information on the tip of her tongue - but then, right before she did, any clues she might have had vanished again. It was frustratingly annoying.

So for now all the egg did, was sit on her coffee table, mercifully quiet.

**HERMIONE (Care of Magical Creatures, 3.46 p.m.)**

"So remember how we thought Hagrid wasn't completely crazy when he brought us the Skrewts? I changed my mind!" Ron yelled repulsed as he dodged a sting by a hair.

Today's class had taken a turn for the worst when Hagrid decided they needed to place the Skrewts in comfortable boxes _so they could hibernate._ After a couple of tries though, it had gotten quite clear that the Skrewts weren't planning on hibernating any time soon. Instead, they had broken free and had started a rampage throughout Hagrid's tiny garden. Hermione could only thank Merlin for the fence that had been put up last year.

Most of the class - Malfoy and his goons up front - had taken a hiding in Hagrid's cabin and barred the door behind them. That left Hagrid with only a tiny amount of helpful students, and naturally all of them were Gryffindors.

"Don't frighten them!" Hagrid called out to his students who were desperately trying not to get killed by means of Skrewt.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to do _that_!" Ron shouted angrily as he shot a stream of sparks out of his wand to fend off the menacingly close monster.

Of the ten Skrewts that were still alive and well - apparently they had no issues with murdering their own siblings - nine had been tied up at the cost of numerous burns, scratches and cuts. Only one creature was left, and _of course_ it was the most aggressive one of all.

Holding her breath, Hermione saw how Ron and Harry got backed up to the wall by the furious animal. The sparks they kept shooting at the creature had lost all effect. Exhausted, she blasted a curse at the creature.

It missed.

Then, almost out of nowhere, Hagrid jumped on top of the Skrewt, flattening the beast. The Skrewt let out a final blast of fire, burning any remaining plant life in its vicinity, before it lost conscience. Hagrid looped a rope around the Skrewt, dragged it toward it siblings and tied it up.

"Well, aren't they magnificent." A female voice said from the other side of the garden fence.

Turning around, Hermione's eyes narrowed as she saw Rita Skeeter looking out over the quite effectively destroyed garden. Ever since that woman had written that article on Fleur - and Harry! Merlin, she almost forgot about Harry! - Hermione had been looking for a means to get Skeeter off the grounds. Which she thought hadn't been necessary anymore since Professor Dumbledore had banned the reporter after the first task. Yet, here she was, and she could almost smell the trouble Skeeter brought in her wake.

"Who're you?" Hagrid frowned as he knocked the dirt off of his large brown coat.

"Rita Skeeter, reporter for the _Daily Prophet._" Skeeter beamed, she was wearing a thick magenta coat and her fingers were - as always - clutching her crocodile leather handbag.

"What is she doing here?" Hermione hissed to Ron, who was standing next to her and staring perplexed at the reporter. She watched as Harry shuffled nervously a couple of feet further. Like her, he didn't trust the reporter for one bit.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" Skeeter asked interestedly, but Hermione's eyes narrowed even further as she heard the hint of slyness in the woman's voice.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts." Hagrid grunted and he scratched his beard.

"Really? Even though I have never heard of them, they seem really interesting. Where do they come from?" Skeeter said, apparently full of lively interest as she opened - without asking for permission - the gate to enter Hagrid's little patch of land.

Instantly seeing the danger - where _did _Hagrid get the Skrewts anyway? - Hermione decided it was time to intervene.

"Yes! They are quite interesting!" Hermione quickly walked up next to Hagrid, desperately trying to make sure nothing would get said that could get back to the large bearded man. "Aren't they, Harry?"

"Ah, yeah." Harry said, getting the message. "They are."

"Harry!" Skeeter beamed loudly, completely ignoring Hermione "You're here too? Do you like Care Of Magical Creatures?"

Seeing as the ground was still burning in certain places, Hermione had no other option than to perceive the question as ironic. Luckily though, Harry stoutly answered that he did. But then, before she could put an end to the disaster happening in front of her, Hagrid had already agreed to an interview.

"Oh lord." Hermione said under her breath when Skeeter flounced back to wherever she had come from. "She'll twist everything he says!"

Miserably she shook her head, intensely hoping that Hagrid had not imported the Skrewts illegally. Unfortunately, that was exactly the kind of thing Hagrid would do. She grabbed her bag of the ground and started walking towards the castle, the boys following her a few seconds later. As she passed the Beauxbatons Carriage, she glanced sideways, and could see the figure of silvery-blonde by the side of the lake. Fleur - dressed up a thick coat and a green scarf - was reading a book by the shoreline. The cold weather didn't seem to bother her.

Gripping her bag a little tighter, she picked up her pace.

Fleur was confusing her. She was making her mind run in circles, she was making her head hurt. Was this what it meant to like someone? She had always thought she had a little crush on Ron, but truly, what she had felt for him was nothing compared to the feelings Fleur gave her.

Not that she wasn't happy about the whole situation. No, she had never been so overjoyed as when Fleur had kissed her that night. It wasn't as if fireworks had gone off, but as far as first kisses went, Hermione considered it a good one. One that she couldn't stop thinking about. But when she laid in bed at night, she didn't know what was happening to her. Did she like girls? Or did she only like Fleur?

Hermione sighed and dropped on a bench in study hall. Ginny had been right, she did feel instantly better whenever she saw Fleur. She liked talking to Fleur, she liked it when Fleur made her laugh. She liked it when they could discuss for hours on topics that were far above Harry and Ron's heads. She liked it when Fleur looked for her amongst the hundreds of people at Hogwarts. She liked it when Fleur hugged her and she _really _liked it when Fleur had kissed her.

Merlin, she thought as she rested her forehead on the table, I'm gay.

"Hermione?" Ron asked hesitantly next to her, "You okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Ronald, thank you for asking." Hermione said, not bothering to lift her head off the table.

"You know you could tell us if something was wrong, right?" Harry spoke softly.

Looking up, she could see her two friends staring concernedly at her. Sighing, she said "Yes. I know. But nothing is wrong, I'm just breaking my head over something. Don't you two have Divination?" She frowned, changing the topic to something less dangerously personal.

The boys looked at each other and quickly got up, clearly, they had once again forgotten about their least favourite class.

"Thanks 'Mione!" Ron called out as they sprinted out of the study hall. "Don't know what we would do without you!"

Shaking her head, she too got up from her place. There was no possible way that she was able to focus on her studies right now. Instead, she decided to check up on the tip Fred and George had given her. The house elves had lived in slavery for far too long while she had been distracted by this enchantingly beautiful witch.

Turning left at the bottom of the large marble staircase in the entrance hall, she walked through a door at the far back behind the stairs, opening it and walking down another flight of stone steps. At the end, she found herself in a broad stone corridor, its walls aligned with paintings of food. She walked slowly, carefully watching each painting as she passed them.

Finally she stopped in front of a large painting portraying a silver fruit bowl. Smiling widely, she stretched her hand out and started to tickle the large green pear in the painting. Hermione took a step back when the pear started to squirm and chuckle and suddenly the pear turned into a green door handle. Grasping the door handle, she pushed open the stone door and stepped through the opening.

In awe, Hermione walked slowly through the gigantic kitchen. It was equal in size to the Great Hall and she guessed from its location that she was right underneath said hall. Four long tables, equal to the ones a floor higher, stood next to each other, filled with dozens and dozens of pots, pans, plates, cups and silverware. The entire hall was filled with the delicious smell of freshly cooked wares.  
At the far back, there was an enormous fireplace. Hundreds of house elves were busily running through the kitchens - dinner only a few hours away - and the room was filled with an almost exhilarating activity.

"Miss," She heard a tiny voice say behind her "Can I help you, miss?"

"Well yes," Hermione smiled kindly at the tiny house elf dressed up in a tea towel with the crest of Hogwarts stamped on it. "I'm here to talk to you about your rights."

"Would you like some tea, miss?" The house elf smiled and bowed, and two other elves rushed forward, carrying a silver tray with a sole teacup, a teapot, a tiny jug of milk and a plate of biscuits.

"Well.." Hermione said, baffled at the almost instantaneous appearance of the tea tray that was currently being held before her. "Thank you, but .. no thank you."

Almost as rapidly as they appeared, the house elves disappeared again with the tray. Confused, Hermione shook her head and returned her attention to the still politely smiling elf in front of her.

"I was wondering if I could represent you in front of Professor Dumbledore." Hermione started, "I'm sure that I can get you elves some vacation days and a decent pay."

The house elf stopped smiling and instead frowned at Hermione. "I'm sorry miss, but we house elves aren't really interested in money. House elves love to work for our masters, it would be an insult to take money for our work." The house elf waved a new set of house elves closer and they brought another tray to Hermione, this time filled with a mountain of cupcakes. "Would you like some cupcakes?" The elf smiled again, insisting Hermione took some.

Hermione once again refused to take anything and the house elves ran off with the tray.

"Look, I started this organization called S.P.E.W." Hermione spoke, "The Society of Promotion for Elfish Welfare, and it is my goal to help you get a better life."

The elf smiled. "House elves already have a good life, miss, but thank you for taking an interest in us. Now, would the miss like some left-over pumpkin pie?"

Before the house elf could once more wave over a tray, Hermione stopped her. "I'm sorry, I'm really not interested in any food right now."

Stunned the elf asked. "Then why is the miss here?"

"I told you, I'm here to help you." Hermione said again, but before she could say more, she watched as a strangely dressed house elf was carrying a cauldron of soup across the kitchen. "Is that.. Dobby?"

The house elf turned around, watching the elf wearing two different coloured socks, a children's football shorts, a weird looking tie and a tea cosy as a hat, push the cauldron onto a table. "Yes miss, that is Dobby."

"Oh. Wow. Just.. Wait here one second." Storming out of the kitchens, she ran as fast as she could for Harry.

Hours later, Hermione was bristling through the Hogwarts hallways as she could not believe what had just happened. She had been there, trying to help them, and Ron had undercut her by pretty much taking everything they offered. Didn't he see what she was trying to do? The obvious indoctrination of the house elves wasn't much help either. At least Harry seemed happy that he got to see the elf he freed again, even if - as Harry had mumbled on their way back to the common room - that elf had almost gotten him killed.

It was late, but still before curfew, and for once Hermione wasn't planning on sneaking out of the castle. She didn't want it to become some sort of habit. Besides, there were plenty of remote hallways in Hogwarts to meet up with Fleur. Like the one she was in now, on the third floor. She almost had to chuckle thinking about her first year at the school. Back then, this hallway was still off limits. Right now, she was using it to meet Fleur.

"Bonsoir."

Two warm arms suddenly hugged her out of nowhere and a delicious soft smell of apples filled Hermione's nose. She leaned into the hug, enjoying Fleur's warmth.

"Hi."

Breaking away, she smiled at Fleur.

"You let your hair down." Hermione said surprised and pushed a string of unruly hair behind Fleur's left ear. Shyly, she spoke. "I like it better this way."

Grinning, Fleur took her hand and together they sat down on the stone bench underneath the window. Still holding Fleur's hand, Hermione tried to swallow away her nervousness.

"Fleur?" She started, "What is it that we are now? Are we.. like.. dating?"

"If you want to, oui." Fleur spoke, squeezing Hermione's hand lightly in order for her to relax. "I know 'zat I want to.."

"I've been thinking," Hermione said pensively. "Quite a lot of thinking actually, and I know that I want to be with you, but.. I just.. I don't want anyone to know."

"Zat is okay." Fleur said reassuringly, "It is no one's business who we like to be wi'z."

Hermione visibly let out the breath she was holding. Frankly, she had been afraid. She _really _didn't want people to know. Fleur was right, it was no one's business who she wanted to be with. But the fact that Fleur was a girl truly complicated some matters. She had never, not once, seen a same-sex couple at Hogwarts. She didn't know if this was because there simply were none, or because wizards didn't approve of the matter. The latter was a possibility, after all, they were known to be quite traditional, otherwise Hogwarts would have had electricity a long time ago. No, she was sure of it. For the time being, this had to stay a secret.

"Have you done this before?" She asked curiously, as Fleur was shuffling a little closer to her.

"You mean, wi'z a girl?" Fleur asked teasingly, as she pressed a kiss to Hermione's cheek.

"Yes." Hermione said, blushing ferociously.

"'Ave you?" Fleur chuckled lightly, obviously knowing the answer already.

"Don't dodge the question!" Hermione spoke, amazed at Fleur's talent of returning questions with questions.

Fleur laughed cheerfully. "Oui, I 'ave, once, but it was never serious."

"Fleur Delacour, not serious?" Hermione teased. "I didn't see that coming."

"Ah, you know me too well already." grinned Fleur.

"Are you serious now?" asked Hermione shyly.

Fleur looked into Hermione's maroon eyes. "Are you?"

"I asked first."

"I like you, I want to be wi'z you. Right now, zat is all zat matters." Fleur said seriously, and after a short hesitation, pressed her lips against Hermione's.

Kissing Fleur back, Hermione lost herself for the third time in two days in the strikingly beautiful witch. She surprised herself by slipping her arms around Fleur's waist. Smelling apples everywhere, she was slightly disappointed when Fleur broke away from the kiss. Resting her head on Fleur's shoulder, she asked. "So what did you do today?"

"I went dutifully to classes. After zat I decided to ignore my egg a little more. What did you do?"

Chuckling - Harry too had been ignoring his egg - Hermione said: "I almost got killed by Hagrid's Skrewts, and then tried to free some house elves, which they for some reason didn't want me to do. I don't get it, all I want to do is help them."

Fleur raised an eyebrow. "Well, did you consider ze fact zat zey do not want to be helped?"

"But that is only because they have been so indoctrinated over the centuries! Like everyone else, they have the right to free speech, a decent pay and some days off." Hermione complained fervently.

Suddenly, Hermione jumped at the sound of nearing footsteps and talking voices. Instinctively, she shuffled away from Fleur. Freaked out, she grabbed her bag and stood up.

"Ermione.." Fleur said softly. "People know we are friends."

"Yes, but friends don't meet up in remote and shady hallways. We are keeping this a secret, remember?" Hermione said disturbed.

Seeing that the students weren't near enough, she quickly pressed a kiss against Fleur's cheek. "We'll see each other later, okay?"

Not even waiting for an answer, Hermione quickly marched off to the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving Fleur sitting on the cold stone bench.

She didn't want anyone to know.

The closer she got to the common room, the more distressed she got. Did the people in the hallway see her kiss Fleur? What if the world found out? What would people think? Gossip spread faster than wildfire in this castle.

**Ginny (Gryffindor Common Room, 10.03 p.m.)**

Seeing as it was a Thursday, the common room was almost empty and people had gone off to their dormitories. Only a few people were still talking quietly or desperately cramming some last pieces of information. Generally though, it had been a quiet evening.

Ginny was reading the latest _Quidditch Report_ on the Hollyhead Harpies at the far end of the common room, when Hermione came storming through the portrait. Well, storming might not be the right word, raging, that was far more fitting. Closing her _Quidditch Report_ she stopped a distressed Hermione right as she was about to run up to the dormitories.

Blocking Hermione's path, she said: "Well hello, why don't you sit down and take a breath before you wake up the entire tower with that loud stomping."

Bewildered, Hermione looked at Ginny, then at the stairs and back to Ginny again. She then took a deep breath and sat down in an armchair a few feet further.

"Okay, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Ginny asked curiously, it wasn't often that she got to see Hermione completely off balance.

Sighing, Hermione buried her head in her hands.

Hesitating shortly, Ginny continued: "Is this about Fleur?"

She remembered how freaked out Hermione had been when she had informed her friend that Fleur was flirting with her. Frankly, when it came to matters of the heart, Hermione was as oblivious as a mountain troll. So when no answer came, she kneeled in front of her friend and said: "If it was, it wouldn't matter to me, I admit I was wrong to doubt her after Skeeter's article, so, you can tell me if you want to."

She was almost able to see the thoughts flying around at light speed inside Hermione's head, and when the bushy-haired fourth year looked up, she noticed the immense doubt in her eyes.

"Look, Hermione, I can keep a secret, just tell me." Ginny insisted worriedly.

Wringing her hands together, Hermione's eyes flew all over the common room, trying to figure out if someone could hear them, before they settled on Ginny again.

"We kissed." Hermione whispered quietly and Ginny almost thought she didn't hear it right. But she had, and she almost laughed relieved and loudly that it was just that. Swallowing away her fears that it had been something horrible, she thought on how her mother was going to react if she ever found out about this. Her mum was an amazing cook, but she already freaked when it came to Bill's earring, witches and wizards weren't quite as progressive as they all thought they were.

"That's fine, I've heard the French are excellent kissers." Ginny joked, trying to relieve the tension. "Besides, Fleur Delacour? It's almost a given that she is. So tell me.. is she?"

"Ginevra!" Hermione said shocked but a tiny smile appeared on her face and Ginny knew she had succeeded in cheering Hermione up a little. "But yes, she is."

Looking curiously at Ginny, Hermione asked nervously: "So .. You don't mind?"

"That you like a girl? Or that said girl is Fleur - miss perfect champion - Delacour?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "No, I don't mind. What is there to mind anyways? Remember how I wrote you this summer that the captain of the Hollyhead Harpies got replaced because the _Daily Prophet _had found out she was living with a woman? Merlin, she was the best we had had in years! And now she's gone! Damn those close minded gits!" Ginny bristled angrily, they had lost the champion's game thanks to that bloody decision. "I had pretty much figured it out about you and Fleur already. You know, I _am _smarter than I look." She grinned.

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, yes you are." Pausing for a second she took a deep breath. "I _don't _want people to know. I _can't _have people knowing. Not until I'm ready."

"Yeah, not to get you worried, but that might be a good idea, you know how wizards can be." Ginny frowned, once again thinking about her mother and Bill's hair and earring but then quickly changed tone. "But hey, I think this is great! She seems like a great person."

"Thank you, Ginny." Hermione smiled and hugged her friend.

"So does this mean you'll stop commenting on the Beauxbatons Princesses? Because that would be a shame." asked Ginny worriedly.

"I couldn't if I tried, they make it too easy." Hermione grinned.

They talked until deep in the night and it wasn't until one of the prefects came down to the Common Room, yelling that it was three in the morning, that the girls finally went to bed. By then, Hermione had more or less calmed down.


	9. Chapter Nine: Dates

**A/N: Big thanks to my beta's, who both have performed miracles again.  
Broken keyboards are but a hindrance. **

**This is the longest chapter to date, partly because it will take a while before I can upload again, partly because I really did needed to get all of it crammed into this chapter. **

**If you have any remarks, please don't hesitate to contact me. I always welcome feedback. **

**DISCLAIMER: JK has written the song inside the egg, not me. The song - just like the characters do - belongs to her.**

* * *

**FLEUR DE LA MER **

**CHAPTER NINE: Dates**

**RON (Transfiguration Class, Thursday December 3rd, 9.34 a.m.)**

Staring at his guinea pig - that had started the lesson out as a rather large guinea fowl - Ron decided that his skill at transfiguring animals was going to take a little more refining. But, looking on the bright side, at least his former fowl didn't have feathers - like Neville's - had exploded - like Seamus' - or was still a fowl - like Harry's. Truly, he thought, as he looked at his classmates accomplishments, a guinea pig with a beak was not that bad. Okay, yes, Harry had pretty much done nothing at all during class - McGonagall had left their desk almost spitting fire, when he had told her that he couldn't focus on his transfiguration as he was busy thinking about his egg - and true, Neville was a liability when it came to anything but Herbology, but Ron liked to think that he had done alright.

Hermione was ferociously taking notes as her successfully transfigured guinea pig was sort of hopping around at the edges of her desk. Ron figured that with the change into a guinea pig, the little creature had lost all love for heights. Unlike his own beaked fellow, which had already fallen off twice, trying to flap the wings it no longer had. Not the brightest of the lot, now was it?

After every student had shut their guinea pigs or fowls or in-betweens in the cage on McGonagall's desk, the Transfigurations Professor started to write down their homework on the blackboard and instead of bothering to pen it down - why else would you have Hermione? - Ron opened up his bag and took out the two fake wands he had stolen from his twin brothers. Harry took one, and immediately started hitting him with the wand - which promptly transformed into a rubber haddock. Parrying with his own fake wand - which turned out to be a tin parrot - the two started an intense sword fight. Ferociously hitting just anything vaguely Harry, Ron grinned. He could not believe that a fortnight ago, he was still hating Harry's guts for getting picked as Champion.

Not that he was a coward - hell no - but fighting dragons wasn't really something for him. Instead, Ron had decided he was just fine sitting this one out. Harry could have the glory and the gold, it didn't matter anymore. Truly, having a fake sword fight in class was much more fun than dying for the entertainment of three schools.

"Potter! Weasley!" McGonagall suddenly snapped, "_Will you pay attention."_

Jumping up, Ron lowered the tin parrot a few inches and turned his attention to the professor up front, who - quite obviously - had been trying to talk for at least a couple of minutes. Well, what did she expect? Class was more or less over. Could a man not have a decent fake-wands-swordfight anymore?

"Now that Potter and Weasley are kind enough to grace us with their attention," McGonagall continued shooting an angry glare at the pair, "I have something to say." Standing at the front of the classroom, she folded her hands.

"This Christmas day, the Yule Ball will be taking place in the Great Hall. The ball is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an excellent opportunity to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open _only_ to fourth years and above, although if you wish you can bring a younger date."

Beside him, Harry sighed deeply as Lavender and Parvati both let out a shrill giggle and pointed at his best mate. Chuckling, Ron figured Harry was up for a couple of rough weeks. Performing that spectacularly at the first task had gotten him quite some - unwanted - attention. And now this? Girls all around them were already going crazy. Okay, maybe they weren't. But he'd like to think they were! Glancing sideways at Hermione, he frowned when he noticed the girl was almost as white as a sheet. Was she sick or something? She had been disappearing left and right the past week. This was the third year all over again.

"Mate, what's wrong with Hermione?" He nudged Harry in the ribs, asking for his attention.

"Ouch. Ron. Damnit. Did you have to do that so hard?" Harry growled. "I don't know what's wrong with her, alright? She's been weird ever since the first task."

"Yeah, but, look at her. She's bloody pale." Ron whispered anxiously.

"Maybe she picked up Neville's cold. I wasn't able to sleep all night thanks to his sneezing." Harry frowned deeply, and Ron had to agree with him on Neville's cold. It was a bloody misery trying to sleep with that in the room.

"Weasley! Potter! Are you two _aiming_ for detention?" McGonagall called out angrily. Deliberately, she stared around the class.

"Dress robes are compulsory. The ball will start at eight o'clock in the Great Hall and end at Midnight. While I know that this is chance to - ahum - let our hair down, we will _not _be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I warn you, I will be most seriously displeased if any Gryffindor student manages to embarrass the school - or me - in any way."

The bell rang, and instantly, Ron jumped up. Scraping chairs and talking people were a perfect distraction. Quickly he dropped his tin parrot to the ground and he shoved it underneath a nearby desk. Someone would probably clean that up later. He ignored Hermione's disapproving glare and gestured for his mate to follow him. Harry though, turned around as McGonagall called for him to come to the front.

"Oh boy." Ron muttered. This probably had something to do with the fake wands.

"That's what you get, Ronald, now come; we're going to be late for Charms." Hermione said sternly, pulling him by his sleeve.

Shaking her hand off, he said. "Nah, I'll wait for Harry, you go on ahead!"

A couple of minutes later, Harry returned from the front with a worried look on his face. "Ron. I'm going to need a partner for the dance. Preferably one that _can _dance."

"Well, if you need a partner, then I need one." Ron cursed. Damn, he had hoped that he, Harry and Hermione would just have gone together, mocking everyone who had actually brought a date. Well, it seemed like he was out of luck. Harry a date, he a date.

"Hey, Hermione!" He called out the girl who was surprisingly enough still waiting for them in the hallway. Charms had apparently lost his charm. Chuckling at his own horrible joke - that he luckily hadn't said out loud or Harry would have hit him with the remaining part of the haddock - he asked Hermione "Did you know that we actually need dates for that Yule thing?"

She visibly paled at the idea - luckily he wasn't the only one worried - and said. "Yes. Now let's go."

"You'll think I'll find a good one, Harry?"

"Boys!"

Honestly though, how hard could it be to find a date?

**HERMIONE (Hogwarts Halls, Friday December 4th, 2.33 p.m.)**

It was a magnificent day, one of those bright, crisp winter days. When the air is freezing cold, yet the sun is shining brightly and if you walk on the grass, you could hear the frost crunch underneath your feet and you would see clouds form out of your breath. Luckily though, Hermione was safe and warm inside Hogwarts Castle. More precise, Hermione, Ron and Harry were making their way through the hallways to their next class. The sun fell through the windows, shining upon the heads of the rushing students. It felt like rush hour in the halls. Hermione was sure she had gotten hit by three elbows already.

"Blimey. Has Hogwarts always been this crowded?" Ron sighed in annoyance as he got hit by someone's bag.

"It's the foreigners, mate." Harry said. "Pretty sure we added like eighty more students."

"And it does not help that those Beauxbatons students walk around like they own the school." Hermione scowled. "Seriously, is it like a law in France that you can never walk on your own?"

"If it was, it'd be funny." grinned Ron.

A group of giggling Beauxbatons girls in blue uniforms appeared around the corner. Almost like they were moving in sync, they elegantly made their way through the crowd.

"Well, at least they don't get hit by someone's elbow. You wouldn't dare to accidentally touch one of that lot." Harry complained.

"Yeah." Ron sighed, eyes fixed on the tall, silvery-blond in the middle of the group. "Fleur Delacour would rip your heart out for touching one of her Frenchie friends."

"No she wouldn't." Hermione spoke softly. She too was following the group of Beauxbatons students with her eyes. Fleur was laughing and smiling with the two girls walking closest to her, obviously gossiping in rapid French.  
Beside her Harry slapped Ron out of his trance, and then - for fun - slapped his friend a second time.

"Stop hitting him, Harry!" Hermione snapped.

Fleur's eyes flickered for a second to Hermione, and Hermione secretly smiled at her girlfriend but Fleur's face did not betray any emotions and the French girl simply and stoically looked away.  
The smile fell from Hermione's face. What was that about? Since when did Fleur act like that towards her?

"Come on! Hermione! We're late for History of Magic!" Harry pulled her elbow.

"I can't believe you wasted the chance to skip class by reminding Hermione that we have it." Ron growled, but together they started walking again.

For the first time in her Hogwarts history, Hermione did not pay attention during History of Magic, causing Ron to panic because that meant he could not copy her notes. So while Harry was taking a nap, and Ron was trying to convince Parvati to let him copy her notes after class, Hermione was growing increasingly worried about Fleur. She didn't understand why Fleur had pretended not to know her in the hallway. Yes, they had agreed to keep everything a secret, but a simple smile was not that difficult now was it? And true, they hadn't really spoken in a few days. A hug here, a kiss there, and these sporadic moments all seemed to last but a few seconds. But it wasn't like they were having an argument, now were they? She felt like she needed to talk to Fleur, ask her what was wrong. The end of class couldn't come quick enough.

After dinner, Hermione snuck out of the Common Room - Ron and Harry could, for once, handle Snape's essay on their own - and started looking for Fleur. Pushing open the heavy front gate of the castle, she shivered as the cold air hit her instantly. It was maybe eight o'clock, yet it was already stubbornly dark outside. Where was spring when you needed it? Quickly walking toward the side of the lake, she knew exactly where Fleur was going to be.

As always, Hermione was right. Fleur was once again practicing magic by the shoreline. Her breath hitched, _conjuring_. Fleur was conjuring, and by the look of it, it was some pretty advanced conjuring too.

"Ow is it 'zat you always find me as I'm in ze middle of practicing some'zing difficult?" Fleur frowned and lowered her wand. She looked tired, and Hermione thought she understood why, conjuring was a very intense branch of Transfiguration. It took immense concentration; you would be tired for less.

"Hi." Hermione smiled and kissed the scowl off of Fleur's face.

"Bonsoir," sighed Fleur and hid her wand in her robes. "What are you doing 'ere?"

"Looking for you, obviously," Hermione said "I wanted to see you."

"So now you want to see me?" Fleur spoke bitterly. "I am not even allowed to talk to you in public anymore, but you can just show up while I'm in 'ze middle of some'zing?"

Surprised by Fleur's sudden outburst, Hermione frowned. "You were the one who refused to look at me today in the halls, not me."

"Oui!" Fleur said in exasperation, "To make you understand what it feels like when you do 'ze same to me!"

"Look, you're obviously tired, maybe I should come back another time.." Hermione hesitated.

"Of course I am tired, 'Ermione." sighed Fleur, "I'm tired of not being able to talk to you, I'm tired of not being able to sit with you in ze library, I'm tired of you ignoring me in public! I get zat you don't want people to know, I understand it even, but we can still be friends to ze outside world. People know we are friends, zey have seen us toge'zer before. I don't mind pretending 'zat we are not dating, but I want to spend my days wi'z you, not 'anging out wi'z 'zat ever growing fan club of mine 'oo can seemingly only talk about make-up, and clo'zes and 'oo did what and 'oo and why."

"I'm sorry; I told you I've been immensely busy. You know I want to spend more time with you too." Hermione spoke rapidly. "All professors have been handing out more homework than ever before."

"Oui, but can we please see each o'zer some more? I don't like it like zis, I really don't." Fleur whispered sadly, all anger gone with the wind.

Hugging her girlfriend, Hermione kept silent. She didn't like it like this either, but for now it was for the best. If they started to hang out in public again, people might figure it out, like Ginny had done. Although, no one was in the library after eight o'clock in the evening.. Well, very few people at least. Maybe it was safe for now.

"I'm going to do my homework in the library." Hermione kissed Fleur softly on the cheek. "Would you like to come with me?"

She almost chuckled how fast the scowl disappeared off Fleur's face and instead she started smiling.

"I wish I could." Fleur said regretfully, "But I promised Inès zat I would 'elp her."

"Oh," spoke Hermione, secretly kind of glad, "that's okay I guess, and we can see each other tomorrow."

"Can we?" Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." Hermione smiled and nuzzled against her girlfriend, "Yes we can."

"Bien." Fleur sighed contently and the two girls stayed silent for a moment. Then Fleur leant forward and intensely kissed Hermione. It surprised Hermione every time, how soft Fleur was, how nice she smelled, and - most definitely - how much she liked kissing her. Breaking the kiss, she smiled. "That was more fun than arguing."

"Trust me; kissing me is always more fun 'zan arguing." Fleur grinned widely, and kissed Hermione again.

Once in the library, Hermione realized there was no focus left for her homework. Fleur had stolen it all away. Maybe things did need to change, Fleur was not the kind of girl that liked living in secret. It was quite obvious that she was an immensely open person who liked to be the centre of attention, and didn't like to keep secrets from her friends. She wasn't the kind of person to hide in the shadows, instead, Fleur always walked around with her head held high, seemingly not caring about what other people thought of her. She differed a lot from Hermione in that way, who liked her privacy, and who liked to control what people knew about her.

Absentmindedly, she was browsing through a thick and dusty old book. For once, she didn't even know what it was about. Realizing how pointless that was, she sighed and closed the book, dust flying in every direction. Carrying the book back to where she had found it - quite naturally it came from some dark old corner – and, lost in her thoughts, she bumped into someone. The book fell to the ground, luckily undamaged.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione said, dropping to the ground to pick up the book. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Please don't apologize," Viktor Krum said politely and offered Hermione his hand as help for her to stand up. "Ve all have been not paying attention once."

Thinking it rude to dismiss his help, Hermione took his hand and Krum pulled her up.

"I am Viktor, pleased to meet you." Krum's generally sullen face was friendly and open. He was tall, wearing his dark red Durmstrang robes and for once he was all alone, his fan clubs nowhere to be found.

"I know who you are." Hermione laughed softly. "My friends don't stop talking about you. I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger."

"The girl who likes to spend her time in the library." Krum smiled at her. "I have seen you many times before, I have always vanted to talk to you."

"Really?" Hermione asked, and started walking again; the book wouldn't place itself back, so much for magic. "I thought you would have enough people to talk to, with all those girls following you around."

Krum frowned as he walked alongside her. "The price of being famous: annoying and rude people follow you everywhere. I vould like to think that your friend Harry vould know all about that."

"Yes, he does." said Hermione, not even surprised that he knew she was friends with Harry. Most people did after all.

"I am quite glad that you have run into me today." Krum continued as Hermione place the book back on the shelf. "I vanted to ask you something."

"Me?" Hermione frowned. "What about?"

"I have seen you around here many times before, and as I said, I've always vanted to talk to you, but I didn't vant to do that vhen we vere surrounded by other people." Krum started, "I hope I am not too forward vhen I say that I find you very beautiful."

Stunned, Hermione kept quiet.

"I vas vondering if you vanted to come to the Yule Ball vith me." Krum asked almost shyly.

"Uhm." Hermione began. "Viktor, I ..."

"I don't need your answer right now." Krum smiled, "I just vanted to ask you before anyone else did. I know ve have never even talked before, but I vould like to get to know you better. Please, think about it."

"Alright." Hermione said politely. "I'll think about it. Thank you for asking me."

"You are quite velcome." Krum nodded "Good night."

Of all things that had happened today, this was by far the least expected. Hermione knew Krum hung out in the library a lot, she practically saw him every day as she was studying here. He was always closely followed by a group of hysterical girls, and she had to admit she had wished quite often that he would just go hang out on his ship instead of - by proxy - ruining the quietness of the library. He was always sitting in the same section as her, even though it varied these days where she sat down. And now it turned out that he was trying to talk to her. She had to admit, he had been very charming, though she found it weird that he - Viktor Krum of all people - wanted to go to the Yule Ball with her.

Entering the Common Room, she wondered what Fleur was going to say if she mentioned this to her. The quarter-Veela was not going to like that news. While extremely charming, intelligent and beautiful, Fleur was also quite possessive. Smiling, she had to admit she liked that about Fleur.

"There you are!" Ron yelled out happily. "Will you tell Harry that what he wrote here is wrong? He doesn't believe me." Shoving a piece of parchment in her face, Ron smiled at her.

Taking the parchment, she quickly read over what Harry wrote. "Ron's right, Harry, as much as it pains me to say that." Handing the parchment back to Harry, she sat down on the couch next to the fireplace.

"Ugh." Harry sighed. "Well I am not changing it_ again. _Snape can hang me upside down in a cauldron of some nasty potions, but I am not changing it again."

"I'd rather have Snape hang me upside down in cauldron of nasty potions, than having to ask a girl out to the Ball." Ron sighed. "They're so bloody difficult."

"You and Harry can always go together." Ginny dropped onto the couch next to Hermione. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Thank you, amazing sister, for your problem-solving abilities."

"I'm not some fairy, Gin," bit Ron "I'm taking a girl or I'm going stag, but I'm not going with another guy. No offense though, Harry."

"None taken mate." Harry said. "I get what you mean."

"Yeah," Hermione spoke angrily "Thank Merlin that you are not _some fairy_." She stood up, and left for the dormitory. As she left, she could hear Ron ask: "Who spit in her beans?"

"You did, brother of mine, you did." Ginny sighed, but then Hermione climbed the stairs and couldn't hear anything anymore.

**DUMBLEDORE (Headmaster's Office, Thursday December 10th, 11.53 p.m.)**

The frown on Albus Dumbledore's forehead grew deeper as he read the letter in front of him. Once he finished, he sank back in his office chair, threw the letter on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sighing deeply, he looked at his phoenix in the corner of his office.

"Fawkes," He spoke in a troubled voice, "Go get Minerva and Severus. I need to speak to them."

In a flash of fire, the phoenix disappeared of his perch. Reading the letter again, Dumbledore grew increasingly worried. The knock on his door brought him back to reality and Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape entered his office.

"What is it, Albus?" McGonagall asked concerned, her hair was loose and it was clear from her bathrobe and nightgown that she had been moments away from turning to bed. Snape, on the other hand, looked as he always did, whether it was three in the morning, or three in the afternoon. Clad completely in black, his eyes rested on the letter on the headmaster's desk.

"I just received news from a friend," Dumbledore spoke solemnly, "Berta Jorkins is dead."

"What?" Snape asked frowningly, "How?"

"Voldemort." Dumbledore simply said.

Sinking in a chair, McGonagall shook her head in disbelief. "I thought she was just visiting family in Albania. How did this happen?"

Folding his hands together, Dumbledore looked at his most trusted colleagues. "I'm afraid I happened."

When Snape and McGonagall stayed silent, he continued. "After the whole incident with Quirell, I figured out that he must have gotten possessed during his little study trip. So, in an effort to locate Voldemort, I retraced Quirell's steps. After a while, it became clear that the Dark Lord was residing in Albania. Nevertheless, it was impossible to figure out where in Albania, as he - as I suspected - kept moving around."

Sighing deeply, Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose again. "In my dire need for information, I decided to send someone to Albania, but the problem was that it couldn't be someone who was closely associated with me. Then I got wind that Berta Jorkins was about to take a leave of absence to go visit some family in Eastern Europe. The decision was quickly made."

"Albus!" McGonagall said shocked, "Of all people, you asked Berta Jorkins for a secret mission? That girl couldn't even keep her mouth shut on the silliest of secrets; she was never particularly bright, what in Merlin's name possessed you to choose her?"

"She was perfect for the job, Minerva." Dumbledore said plainly. "It is not like I told her she was looking for Voldemort, I just asked her to look out for certain clues."

"She must have known she was looking for something, I cannot imagine you convinced her to help you without making up something she was looking for." Snape said sullenly. "So what did you tell her you were looking for?"

"Merlin's ring." Dumbledore let out a chuckle.

"Albus!" spoke McGonagall shrilly, "And she believed you?"

"As you correctly pointed out, my dearest Minerva, she was never the brightest."

"So why are you telling us this now?" Snape asked.

"Ah, Severus, you always ask the right questions." Dumbledore nodded in approval. "Jorkins is dead, and Voldemort is on the move. Combine that with the fact that someone inside Hogwarts is trying to get Harry killed, and I think we have a rising problem on our hands."

"On your hands." corrected Snape the old headmaster. "It is not my problem that someone is trying to kill Potter."

"I figured that it is your problem, Severus, since I am quite convinced that our perpetrator is someone out of your old Dead Eater circles." Dumbledore leant back in his chair, pushing his fingertips together.

"So what do you want us to do?" Snape scowled, and gestured at himself and McGonagall.

"First of all, I need you to keep the news of Berta Jorkins unfortunate death to yourselves, the Ministry cannot get wind of that fact yet. Secondly, no one can ever know what she was doing there beyond 'visiting her family'. And thirdly, I have some assignments for the both of you." Dumbledore said solemnly.

Fawkes the phoenix flew up from his perch, and landed in front of Dumbledore, absentmindedly, he started petting the beautiful firebird.

"Severus, I need you to dip into your old contacts, and try and figure out what is going on in the Death Eater circles. If Voldemort is coming back to England, there have to be some rumours." Sighing deeply, Dumbledore looked concernedly at Snape. "I know it is not an easy task, what I ask of you, but remember what you promised."

An eerie silence fell upon the office as Snape simply stared at the old man in front of him, then he nodded, turned around, and as quickly as he had entered the office, he left it again.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were left alone in the Headmaster's office, the Transfigurations Professor stared at Dumbledore and the headmaster shifted in his chair.

"I know you don't approve of my actions, Minerva," Dumbledore spoke gently, "but I need your help."

"I cannot believe you asked Berta Jorkins, knowing fully that you would be placing her in danger without her even realizing it." McGonagall shook her head. "It was wrong of you."

"I agree, it was wrong." Dumbledore nodded, "But what's done is done."

"What do you need me to do?" She sighed deeply.

"We have a mole in our midst, and it is time we started looking for the vermin." Dumbledore smiled slyly. "I would do it myself, but this Triwizard Tournament keeps having hiccups, so I'm asking the next best person. You."

Pinching her lips together, Minerva McGonagall clearly did not like the request. "I'm doing this for Potter, Albus, and not for you." She said as she stood up.

"Are you punishing me for my role in what happened to Berta Jorkins?" Dumbledore frowned deeply.

"Yes," McGonagall said sternly "A woman is dead, Albus."

"I know. But it was for.." Dumbledore started.

"The greater good." McGonagall sighed in disapproval. "The time that you could use that as an excuse has long passed Albus."

The door of the headmaster's office slammed closed behind her, and Albus Dumbledore was left alone with his own thoughts.

**FLEUR (Beauxbatons Carriage, Wednesday December 16th, 2.45 p.m.)**

_Dear Fleur_

_Your father and I were immensely proud after we received your letter describing the first task. We always knew that you were would be capable of anything, but that you would be able to beat a dragon - as you can imagine - never occurred to us. Congratulations.  
Madame Maxime let us know that your tactic was by far the most intelligent one, and we expected nothing less of you._

_Here in France, everything is going fine.  
Your father's work at the Ministry is growing busier than ever, especially now that he is in charge of the Office of Magical Diplomacy.  
Although I am convinced that he is using his work as an excuse to escape the house. Grandmère is visiting, and I have to admit that I am rather close to pulling my hair out. _

_I love my mother to death, but when she starts chanting in that ancient Veela tongue at five in the morning, I'd rather not have her living with us.  
Her excuse is that she "needs to renew the bonds with nature" but I suspect her of doing it to annoy me.  
You remember what it sounds like, don't you?  
The Old Veela language sounds pretty much like mermaids' songs above water.  
Screechy and hellishly loud._

_As I'm writing this letter your Grandmère interrupted me, and she pointed out that the Veela _can_ sing and that it does _not _sound like someone is screaming their lungs out. I disagree.  
She also told me to send you her regards, and wants me to congratulate you once more on your victory over the dragon. She says you are a true granddaughter of hers._

_We miss you a lot here in France. Good luck with the second task.  
Your father wished for me to tell you that you need to write him more often, and I just wish you were here._

_Love, Maman_

Holding the letter in her right hand, Fleur stared in disbelief from the letter to the egg on her coffee table and back. It could not be this easy, could it? Was this what she was trying to remember for half a month now? That the egg sounded quite a lot like her grandmère? No way.

Like a mermaid song above water. Impossible, dropping the letter to the ground, swiftly walked over to the egg, opened it in one quick movement and almost got deafened by the intense screeching that came out of it.

Like a mermaid song above water.

Closing the egg again, she picked it up, threw open the door of her chambers and started to run down the stairs. Dodging her fellow students left and right, she almost tripped over her feet when she entered the central hall of the carriage. Sprinting towards the exit, she left the carriage and the stunned looks behind her.

A mermaid song above water? Was that it? Ignoring the freezing air outside - she was not wearing a coat - Fleur ran as fast as she could towards the lake. Instead of stopping at the shoreline, she jumped right in. She ignored the ice cold water, and the tingling in her toes, and waded her way towards deeper water. Then, she took a deep breath and disappeared under the waterline. The water had an sickly green colour, but Fleur didn't even bother to worry about the filthy greyish algae floating around her. Instead she focussed on the golden egg in her hands, and opened it up. Instead of the usual scary screeching, a chorus of eerie voices singing to her filled her ears.

"_Come seek us where our voices sound,  
We cannot sing above the ground  
And while you're searching ponder this:  
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,  
An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took,  
But past an hour - the prospect's black,  
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."_

Smiling widely at the egg, Fleur thanked Merlin for letting her grandmère visit the house. Then - out of the blue - a hand pulled her above water, and she almost let the egg slip out of her hands. As she broke through the waterline, she gasped for much needed air.

"What are you doing?!" Inès yelled angrily at her. "Have you gone completely mad?! The water is freezing, and you just storm right in? You looked like you were about to drown!"

"Inès!" Fleur yelled out in euphoria, she was shivering and the cold above water had hit her like Thor's hammer in the chest. "I figured it out! I needed to hold the egg under water!"

Disbelievingly, Inès stared at her friend. "You have a _bath_ in your room. A _bath_, Fleur!" Dragging Fleur out of the ice cold water and back to the carriage, Inès had never looked angrier. Throwing open the front door of the carriage, she pushed a completely wet and rather blue-ish Fleur inside.

"Putain." Isabella said shocked when Inès and Fleur stormed past her. "What happened to you?"

"Fleur decided it was a good idea to go swimming _in the lake_ in the middle of winter." Inès said in annoyance, and forced Fleur to walk up the stairs to her room. "I pulled her out."

"Good thinking, Inès." nodded Isabella who followed them and she pushed the door to Fleur's chambers open when they got there. She took the egg out of Fleur's shaking hands, and put it back on the coffee table in the middle of the room. "She needs to get out of those clothes or she'll get hypothermia."

"I ca-an't m-o-o-ve my fing-gers." Fleur shivered.

"Definitely hypothermia." Inès sighed, "Hands up." She pulled Fleur's shirt over her head and helped her friend out of her clothes. Turning on the water in the bathroom, Isabella en Inès forced Fleur under the almost steaming hot water of her bath with shower.

"Non," Fleur tried to struggle "C'est trop chaud!"

"Well that's what happens if you jump in ice cold water, sweetie." Isabella smiled.

Once Fleur had stopped struggling and had sunken back into the water, her body slowly started to warm up.

"Well, I have to say, I never quite expected that I would force Fleur Delacour out of her clothes." Isabella grinned and sunk on the ground next to the bath. "What are friends for, eh?"

Nodding in agreement, Inès forced her attention back on Fleur, who was now enjoying the warmth of the bath with her eyes closed. "What on earth were you thinking?" She frowned sternly. "Did you even think this through?"

Not bothering to open her eyes, Fleur said: "Like a mermaid above water."

"Ehm, quoi?" Isabella asked confusedly.

Fleur continued: "Ever since I first heard the screeching, I've been trying to remember from where I recognized the sound, but I couldn't figure it out. Then I got this letter from maman, who informed me that grandmère has taken a liking to singing in Veela at five in the morning."

"What does that have to do with anything?" frowned Isabella and Inès simply shook her head.

"Veela's can't sing." Fleur smiled, still with her eyes closed. "Well, they can, but they sing in their own tongue. Which, as my mother correctly pointed out, sounds as horrifying as a mermaid's songs above water."

"Veela and mermaids descend from the same ancient creature: sirens. And while one lives in the water, and the other on land, and they don't have much in common anymore, they both have a very similar language." Fleur said, splashing the water around. "One that was originally meant not to be heard above water. Veela's don't use their ancient tongue anymore these days, unless for some weird chanting that according to ma grandmère 'connects us with the earth'. Unfortunately for my mother, that chanting sounds a lot like screeching and screaming."

"So what are you saying exactly?" Inès frowned "And more importantly, _why _did that mean that you had to go swimming?"

Fleur grinned widely "I finally remember where I recognized the eggs screeching from, ma grandmère. And then I realized that it was chanting or singing, or whatever. And that you can only listen to it under water. Because of the merpeople in the lake."

"So why did you have to actually jump into the lake for that?" Inès continued to ask.

"I admit that that might not have been necessary." Fleur smiled. "But I've figured it out now. I've figured that bloody egg out."

"Good on you." Inès shook her head. "Now if you don't mind, I'm getting out of this _ruined _uniform, because I'm freezing too." She turned around, and closely followed by Isabella, she left the bathroom.

"Inès!" Fleur called after her.

"Quoi?" Inès turned around.

"Thank you for pulling me out." smiled Fleur. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Hours later, and all warm again, Fleur was walking around Hogwarts, looking for Hermione. She found her in a remote and empty classroom, in a distant corner of the castle.

"Well, you do know 'ow to pick ze places." Fleur smiled softly at Hermione, and engulfed her in a big hug. "I got lost twice before I found zis place."

"That's what happens if you don't listen to my directions." Hermione chuckled, and kissed Fleur. "Now, what was so important that you had to see me so urgently?"

Proudly, Fleur looked at her girlfriend. "I figured it out!"

"The egg?" Hermione asked incredulously .

"Oui!" Fleur laughed. "It was so easy; I can't believe it took me so long to figure it out!"

"Congratulations!" smiled Hermione. "I'm glad that you did, I know how much you were breaking your head over this. I don't think Harry even bothers anymore." Fondly, Hermione shuffled a little closer to Fleur, enjoying her embrace.

"Krum asked me to go to the Yule Ball with." Hermione said softly.

For a second there, Fleur was stunned and she instantly let go of Hermione. "He what?!" she exclaimed. "What did you say? Non, I hope."

"He asked me to think about it." Hermione frowned "And I promised him that I would."

"You're not actually considering zis, are you?" Fleur asked disbelievingly.

"Why not? It's not like we can go together." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"And why ze hell can't we?!" Fleur jumped up, angrily, she balled her fists.

"You know why not." frowned Hermione. "We don't want people to know."

"Non." Fleur said coldly, "_You _don't want people to know. I would love to go to ze Yule Ball wi'z you. I would love to tell ze entire world zat you are my girlfriend."

"You know I'm not ready for that." Hermione paled visibly. "Going with Krum would mean that we could convince people that I like him, and we could be seen together in public without raising suspicion."

"I don't want to convince people zat you like Krum! I want _you_ to convince me zat you like _me. _Because lately, I don't know anymore!" Fleur yelled angrily. "You don't want to be seen wi'z me, you only want to meet up when it is dark, or when nobody is around! I feel like I am your dirty little secret and you don't even try to convince me zat I am not!" Fleur could feel the tears sting in her eyes.

Taking a step back from Hermione, she dried her eyes and took a deep breath.

I'm not trying to force you into doing any'zing that you don't want to do." Fleur shook her head. "I 'ave been going out of my way to try and do 'zis ze way zat you want it to be. But 'zis is killing me! We 'ave been going out for almost a month and you don't even consider my feelings! You know what? Go wi'z Krum. I don't care anymore. Do whatever ze fuck you want."

Furiously, Fleur stood up and left Hermione sitting in the classroom.

**GINNY (Gryffindor Common Room, Friday December 18th, 6.42 p.m.)**

"Come on, Ron, it's okay. It could have happened to anyone." Ginny spoke in a soothing and low voice to her brother, holding him steady as he was staring with an ashen face in the distance.

"Err - What's up, Ron?" asked Harry as he joined them.

Her brother looked up, a sort of blind horror on his face, to his best friend. "Why did I do it?" He asked bewildered, and Ginny fought to keep a smile of her face. "I don't know why I did, Harry, I don't know what came over me."

"What?" said Harry, and he looked at Ginny. "What's he talking about?"

"He - err - sort of just asked Fleur Delacour to be his date to the ball." Sympathetically, she petted her brother on the arm, but she could see that Harry knew she was trying not to laugh.

"You _what_?" said Harry.

"Yeah." Ginny chuckled.

"I don't know mate, she was just standing there talking to Diggory, and there were people all around us." Ron gasped. "And I was just walking past her and then - I don't know what came over me, I've gone mad - I just asked her."

"Well, he more or less yelled it at her." Ginny grinningly corrected her brother. "But it could have happened to anyone, Ron, don't worry." She soothed Ron when he stared bewildered at her.

"Then what'd you do?" frowned Harry.

"I came to my senses, mate, and I ran." Ron sighed, and buried his face in his hands.

"Yes," agreed Ginny "it was quite the sight."

"She's part Veela," said Harry and he sat down next to his friend. "She must have just used some of her charms on Diggory to try and get him to go out with her. She's too late though, he's going with Cho Chang." He laughed bitterly "I just asked her."

"You two are pathetic." grinned Ginny.

"This is mad!" Ron said "We are the only two left without a date. Well, we and Neville.. Hey guess who he asked? Hermione!"

"_What?!_" Harry exclaimed "No way!"

"Yeah I know," Ron laughed, and some colour came back to his face. "He told me after potions."

"So what'd she say?" Harry said, as he grabbed an apple out of Ginny's hands and started to eat it.

Sighing deeply, Ginny took another apple out of her bag "Get your own food, Harry. And stop stealing mine."

"She said no! Told Neville that she was already going with someone! Ha! As if! You can't blame her though, who would want to go with Neville?"

"Stop it, Ron." Ginny said in annoyance. "Don't laugh about it."

The portrait opened up, and Hermione climbed through. Walking up to the trio, she frowned at Ron and Harry "Why weren't you two at dinner?"

"Oh, well, Ron because he made a fool out of himself, and Harry because he got turned down by Cho Chang." Ginny said, quickly covering up the fact that he had asked Fleur. Every time someone mentioned Fleur these days, Hermione got deadly pale. Even her ignorant brother and Harry - the Boy Who Could Care Less - would notice something was wrong with their best friend.

"All the good ones taken, Ronald?" Hermione said ironically. "You can always ask Moaning Mirtle."

But Ron stared at Hermione with an open mouth, causing Ginny to grab the opportunity to slap her brother back to life. Never waste an opportunity to slap your brother when your mum isn't around.

"Neville's right!" He exclaimed loudly. "You_ are _a girl!"

"Oh, well spotted, Ronald." Hermione said icily.

And before Ginny could defrost the situation, her brother had made a fool out of himself for a second time in a day. I should keep a list, Ginny thought, a list of moronic Ron moments.

"Oh come on!" Ron said impatiently. "We need partners; we'd look like fools otherwise."

"Well then you can look like a fool, because I'm already going with someone." Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. "You should have asked sooner."

"No you're not." Ron laughed. "You just said that to get rid of Neville-boy."

Uh-oh, thought Ginny, and she could see Hermione's eyes flash dangerously.

"Did I, now?" said Hermione angrily. "Just because you needed three years to figure out that I'm a girl, that doesn't mean the rest of the world did."

Ron grinned and Ginny was close to hitting him again. "Fine, fine, you're a girl. Happy now? Will you _please _just come to the ball with one of us?"

"I've already told you." Hermione was now spitting fire. "I'm already going with someone!" And before Ginny could stop her, her friend had run off to the dormitories.

"She's lying." Ron said flatly, shaking his head.

"She's not." Ginny said, and took another bite out of her apple.

"Who is it then?" Ron said sharply.

"Not telling you, brother, it's none of your damn business." Ginny smiled and stood up. "Now I'm going to grab some dinner. Do try to find some dates before the ball starts? Wouldn't want you to look like a fool."

Walking out on her brother and his friend, Ginny swallowed. Hermione was playing with fire.

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I estimate that I will be able to upload again in about three weeks. The chapter title will be ****_The Yule Ball_**.** I guess you all know what that means. My exams are starting on Monday, so I am afraid I will have to focus on that for a while. - M.**


	10. Chapter Ten: The Yule Ball part I

**A/N Here it is, like promised, chapter ten. I'm incredibly glad I was indeed able to upload tonight, and as usual you have to thank Peeves' Best Friend, Beta extraordinaire! **

**Other thanks go out to xtonguetied, Phoebex13 and Hulksmashed, whose continued interest in my story is a huge help. I'd recommend you check out Hulksmashed's Fleurmione story, if you are interested, it's incredibly good.**

**And last, but not least, thanks go out to you! For continuing to read Fleur De La Mer, without you, I don't think I would keep on writing!**

* * *

**FLEUR DE LA MER**

**CHAPTER TEN: The Yule Ball, Part I**

**HERMIONE (Study Hall, December 23rd. 10.02 a.m.)**

"Who are you going with?" Ron whispered bluntly to Hermione who was ferociously writing her essay on Charms - _Explain the difference in spellwork between the Summoning Charm and the Banishing Charm._ In the last half hour alone, this was the third time he hadasked.

"None of your business, Ronald." Hermione answered curtly and continued to pen down words. Her entire right hand was - as usual - covered in ink stains.

"Why won't you tell us? Are you embarrassed about him?" Ron pushed a little further, refusing to let the matter go.

"As I have told you at least seven times before; I'm not embarrassed about whom I'm taking." Hermione said disinterestedly "Now will you let me concentrate? This essay is not about to write itself." Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a mistake. Hermione dipped her quill in ink and scratched out the word. Great, she hated scratched out words. Now she could copy it all over again when she finished.

Sighing in annoyance, Hermione purposely ignored the redhead boy who was still staring at her. After ten minutes of intense staring on his side, and increasing restlessness on Hermione's part, she dropped the quill on the table and turned to face her friend.

"What?" She hissed and Ron blinked in surprise at her aggressive reaction.

"Who are you going with?" He insisted on asking again.

"Ronald.." Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Just let it go. I'm not telling you."

"You will eventually!" He exclaimed loudly. That exclamation earned him a slap on the head by Professor Snape, who had snuck up on them once he had realized that Ron was not exactly studying.

"Mister Weasley." Professor Snape said in a low voice. "Could you remind what the purpose is of Study Hall? I seem to have forgotten it."

"Uhm. Studying?" Ron said.

"So," Snape said, seemingly bored "Not gossiping?"

"I guess not."

"You guessed correctly, Weasley. Leave Granger alone and get back to work or you can join me in detention later." Snape smirked coldly. "Five points from Gryffindor for talking in Study Hall."

"Bloody snake, he is." Ron grumbled when Snape walked away.

"Detention, Weasley." Snape called without turning around. "8 o'clock, my office. You can join your brothers."

Hermione sniggered and focused once more on her essay. When they walked out an hour later, Ron threw up his hands in exasperation and Harry slapped him sympathetically on the back.

"I wonder what Fred and George got detention for." Harry pondered out loud while the trio was walking towards lunch.

"They got caught running a gambling operation." Hermione said. "Well, _the _gambling operation, to be fair. I heard the prefects talking about it this morning."

"You mean to tell me I lost fifteen sickles to my own brothers?" Ron muttered. "Just when you think that you can avoid them.."

"When did you lose fifteen sickles?" Harry asked in confusion.

"The first task." Ron sighed. "Some Hufflepuff was promising 10 to 1 odds to Krum killing his dragon. I should have known it was too good to be true."

"No, Ronald." Hermione grinned "You should have known that your brothers were somehow involved anyway. Even if you go out-house to bet on something - which I disapprove of by the way; the betting, not the fact that you went out house - Fred and George are always involved."

"Yeah. Since when have Hufflepuffs been smart enough to run an illegal operation?" Harry said mockingly.

"Harry." Hermione sighed deeply "Not all Hufflepuffs are idiots. Diggory is a Hufflepuff. He got picked as a champion, that means he _has_ to be smart."

"I got picked as a champion." Harry remarked. "Does that mean I'm smart?"

"No mate." Ron laughed. "That just means they're trying to kill you again."

Laughing loudly - with some frowning on Hermione's part - the trio made their way through the crowd. As usual, the hallways were overflowing with hungry people, all trying - at the same time - to enter the Great Hall. Obviously, it wasn't working. More importantly, it seemed incredibly uncomfortable. Hermione grabbed Ron by the collar and stopped him when she noticed him going for the entrance.

"Let's just wait a second." Hermione said when he looked around in surprise. "I don't want to get squashed _again_."

Grumbling, Ron agreed and stepped back, letting the stream of hungry students by. Leaning against the wall, the trio observed the enormous mass of people all bumping into each other, until one unfortunate first year slipped, tripped over his own feet and triggered a domino effect. Before Hermione could react, the entire Hufflepuff first year section was a groaning pile of limbs on the ground.

It took two entire seconds for Ron and Harry to start laughing at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes - no surprise there - and Hermione sighed in reaction. Hitting them both with the Charms book that she was holding, she scolded her friends for mocking the poor Hufflepuffs. The disapproving look on her face only made her close friends laugh louder. Shaking her head she opened her mouth to say something, but then a loud, almost musical laugh stopped her in her tracks.

The doors of the entrance hall had opened, and a contingent of Beauxbatons students had decided to arrive for lunch. At the front stood Fleur, who was almost shaking in hilarity when she saw how two boys tried standing up, only to slip down again mere seconds later.

"Zis school." Fleur mocked loud and clear for the entire entrance hall to hear "It is a joke. Zis entire school is just _one_ _big_ _joke_. You'd 'zink 'zey would teach zeir students 'ow to walk, wouldn't you Inès?"

The girl beside her - Fleur's friend that Hermione had seen a million times before - grinningly agreed.

"And _zat,_" Fleur continued in a voice dripping in disapproval and pointed towards the ceiling "Would never be allowed to even enter Beauxbatons."

Hermione frowned at Fleur's tone of voice and like the rest of the students in the hall, she looked up to the ceiling. Triumphantly floating around, was Peeves. The Poltergeist took a deep bow, and then, before anyone could reacted drifted away to some other yet to be created mayhem.

Suddenly, Hermione realized that the floor was indeed far more slippery than usual. Deeply frowning - why didn't she realize this before? - she reached for her wand. Too late, Fleur had had the same idea and with one simple and bored flick of her wand, the French witch had cleared up the thin layer of wax Peeves had spread out on the floor.

The poor first years were finally able to stand up again, only to almost be pushed back to the ground when the Beauxbatons students made their way towards the entrance of the Great Hall. As she had done so many times before this week, Hermione tried to catch Fleur's eye when the beautiful quarter-Veela walked past her with her head held high. And just like all those other times during the week, Fleur ignored her like she was a pile of dust in a remote corner somewhere in the castle.

"Fleur Delacour does _not _seem happy." Harry said once the Beauxbatons pupils had entered the Great Hall. "Every time I see her these days, she is looking more menacing than before. Just when I thought she was warming up to the idea of Hogwarts."

Instead of listening to Ron's muffled response - he'd probably mutter something about how out-of-reach Fleur was for him; and he was right about that - she didn't let her shoulders slump and instead decided to make her way towards lunch. Most people had entered by now anyway, there was no more reason to stay and wait.

Ever since their last fight, Fleur had ignored her. No matter how hard she tried to contact her, no matter how many times she walked over to that spot at the side of the lake, no matter how many times she sat alone in the library - waiting for Fleur to show up - Fleur didn't give her one ounce of attention. At dinner, she would ignore Hermione, except for those few moments where Fleur would glance back to her. But her normally warm eyes, always seemed cold and distant.

Hermione knew better though. Those sapphire blue eyes were not cold, they were sad.

But really, it was as if Fleur was challenging her, testing her, pushing her to snap. Whenever she was around Fleur, whether it was in a hallway or in the Great Hall, Fleur acted like the stereotypical French person who hated everything vaguely English. In the last couple of days, the girl had insulted _everything. _From the food to the statues to the actual students. Nothing escaped the scrutinizing eye of Fleur Delacour. Nothing. She was acting like the arrogant Veela everyone thought she had been only a few weeks ago.

Her eyes glanced to Fleur, who was sitting only a table further. Hermione always made sure they were sitting more or less parallel from each other. Fleur was once again staring at the food in front of her.

"Ugh. It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food." Hermione heard Fleur say grumpily. "If I keep eating zis, I will not fit into my dress robes!"

Hermione snapped on purpose, realizing that Harry was looking at her weirdly  
"Ooh there's a tragedy." She mocked "She really does think a lot of herself, doesn't she?"

"I guess so." Harry said slowly, "So why are you staring at her?"

"She's annoying the hell out of me." Hermione scowled loudly.

"Weren't the two of you friends?" Ron muttered with a mouth full of food.

If looks could kill, Ron Weasley would be dead on the floor by now, and the food he was eating would fall out of his lifeless mouth. Yet, up until this day, Hermione Granger was not able to kill people simply by glaring. Instead, she stood up and even though lunch was not even half way done yet, she decided to leave.

"Wait up there, Granger." She heard Ginny call after her. The redhead girl ran up to Hermione, linked arms and as inconspicuously as Ginny could - which wasn't really that inconspicuous - she dragged Hermione out of the Great Hall. A pair of deep blue eyes followed them all the way to the doors.

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed once they were outside "What are you doing?"

"Dragging you out of lunch, isn't it obvious?" Ginny grinned.

"I was leaving on my own already." Hermione frowned.

"Yeah, I noticed. So, what's up with you and Veela girl? Trouble in paradise?" Ginny asked while pushing Hermione in the direction of the Great Staircase. "Also, can we drop by the Common Room? I seem to have forgotten all of my books today and McGonagall was _not _happy about me showing up empty handed in her class." Ginny continued as she jumped over a trick step. "I'm not risking detention with all _three _of my school going brothers by doing the same thing in Snape's class."

"How do you keep managing to forget your books?" Hermione's eyes narrowed in confusion. In all her time at Hogwarts, she had never - not once - forgotten her books.

"I overslept." Ginny shrugged. "So, you and Fleur. Talk."

"There's nothing to say, Ginny." Hermione said.

"Right." Ginny smirked "So that's why Fleur's been running through the castle insulting the entire world one tiny detail at the time, and you keep walking out on lunch as if someone killed your cat."

"We just had a fight." Hermione said, and once she gave the password to the Fat Lady, the portrait swung open and they entered the Common Room.

"I know, but that was like a week ago. Shouldn't you have made up by now?" Ginny remarked as they climbed the stairs to the girls dormitories.

"Yeah, well, apparently not." Hermione scowled and dropped on Ginny's bed. "She's not too happy about me going with Krum, and - ugh - she's just ignoring me."

"You did bring the whole Krum-situation on yourself, sweetie." Ginny's head popped out of her trunk. "Merlin, I can't seem to find my potions book.. Anyways.. just.. talk to her. That'll end your misery."

"Don't you think I tried that?" Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I've been trying to talk to her all week! Whenever I think: Now's the moment! She runs off again."

"So." Ginny closed the trunk, giving up on the potions book search. She sat down next to Hermione on the bed and frowned. "Are you two still together?"

"I don't know. We never _officially _put an end to things" Hermione said softly. "So I don't even know."

"Well that sucks." Ginny sighed and patted her friend on the back. "That sucks big time."

**FLEUR (Black Lake, December 23rd)**

Elegantly, Fleur dived off the cliff straight into the clear water of the lake. Cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter, she easily reached a depth of 15 feet, where she hovered for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Although the water was freezing, Fleur was comfortably warm. She was not about to make the same mistake twice, and end up with hypothermia again. Once was more than enough. Unfortunately, Fleur knew that the charm she cast on herself to stay warm, was going to take a lot of energy, so while she regulated her body temperature, she did so with as little magic as possible. The deeper she went, the colder the water got, and from experience, she knew that it was not going to be pleasant if the charm failed.

For the past week, she had been exploring the lake to prepare herself for the second task. It had taken her less than a day to master the Bubble-Head charm that allowed her to spend time underwater. The charm had been Inès' idea, who had laughed when Fleur had been looking at partial human Transfiguration. Mocking her friend - "Why do you always have to go for the difficult solution?" - Inès had grinned and had pulled out her charms book. From that moment on, Fleur had almost been living in the lake, trying to get an understanding of its lay-out and dangers, and with every swim, the Bubble-Head charm lasted longer, once more confirming Fleur's conviction that practice was what made or broke a wizard.

While her friends all thought Fleur was spending so much time underwater for the sake of the Tournament, the truth was only partially that. Frankly, after that last disastrous fight with Hermione, she had been avoiding the grounds as much as possible. Except for Krum - who she had seen diving off his ship into the lake several times - it was highly unlikely that she was going to run into someone else swimming in the lake. Lucky for her - and for Krum - the lake was gigantic enough for the two of them and she had only seen him once while exploring, and even then from afar. Of course, it was easy to blame Krum for the fight she and Hermione had had, but if Fleur was honest, the Quidditch player and her fellow champion had done nothing wrong. In fact, him asking Hermione to the Ball proved that he had excellent taste. Nevertheless, it had only led to more bitterness on Fleur's side. And even though Hermione had tried on multiple occasions, they hadn't spoken since then.

The cold sunlight didn't reach far in the - remarkably clear - water and at a depth of 50 feet, Fleur felt like she was in a world of shadows. Using her wand to cast light in the rapidly increasing darkness, she reached the gigantic boulder that had quickly become one of her more important landmarks while travelling the lake. Staring for a moment at the massive stone, she turned east, away from the Merpeople's village that she had only come across yesterday. The underwater world of the Great Lake was vastly different from the one above water, it housed an enormous amount of fauna and flora. After all, not only Merpeople lived in the lake, schools of silvery fish swam faster than Fleur ever could, hiding whenever she came across them into the gigantic fields of weeds, that covered parts of the bottom of the lake. While beautiful from a distance - the weeds gave the impression of long grass waving idyllically in a soft breeze - Fleur hated the plants up close. Slimy, strong and far too often impossible to be dodged, Fleur detested it when she had to swim through them.

Only once had she come across the Giant Squid, and ever since then she had understood that that name did no justice to the creature. The squid was not _just_ gigantic, it was simply _enormous_. While she had carefully kept her distance - after all, you never know with magical beasts - the Squid had gazed disinterestedly at her, and then slowly but surely made its way to the deeper and even darker parts of the lake, the parts that Fleur still avoided.

Swimming towards what looked like another forest of weeds, Fleur smirked when she remembered the look on Hermione's face earlier that day. Maybe she was being petty, acting this obnoxious and arrogant all the time, but the truth was that she was having fun. Acting out wasn't really Fleur's style, but Hermione's reactions every time were definitely worth it. If she had to face the girl, then she would do it on her terms. Hermione could go with Krum for all she cared, but since Fleur knew how much Hermione hated what she called that "stereotypically French behaviour", she was not about to disappear into the shadows without so much as a whiff of drama. After all, she was Fleur Delacour, and if there was one thing Fleur Delacour was good at, it was attracting attention.

Suddenly she felt something touching her ankle, something slimy, something strong. Turning her head, she saw the long, green fingers of a Grindylow grasping her ankle and before she could react, the creature yanked her down into the black depths of the lake. While the sound was lost underwater, Fleur cursed loudly and sent a Revulsion Jinx at the beast. A stream of boiling water forced the Grindylow to let go of her ankle, but while that one sank back into the depths of the lake to lick his wounds, two more took his place. Horrified, Fleur suddenly realized she was surrounded by dozens of them. They all looked at her with these sickly yellow beady eyes, and for a second, time seemed to stand still.

Then, they attacked.

Grasping, scratching, reaching whatever part of Fleur they could, they were with too many to hold them off. Sending jinxes all over the place, she could barely keep up. Desperately shaking her legs to get the creatures off, she remembered that while Grindylows were fragile, they had these long, brittle and strong fingers that once they got a hold on something, they almost never let go. In textbooks it always seemed so easy with their suggested defence, but in reality it was near impossible to break the Grindylows' hold on her.

_Relashio. Relashio. Relashio._

Fleur kept sending Revulsion jinxes at the ones that grasped her legs, ankles, arms and even her stomach, but for every creature that was forced to let go, there was a new one taking its place.

Their long, strong fingers were bruising her skin, their filthy nails were scratching her open. They forced her deeper and deeper in the lake, closer and closer to the weeds on the bottom that threatened to entangle her forever.

_Don't panic._

She couldn't panic, she wasn't allowed to be afraid, fear was the mind killer. Aiming her wand, she sent a ball of fire at the creatures holding her legs. Almost instantly disappearing in the water, the spell had little effect. She could almost hit herself for being so stupid - fire in water, Fleur? Really? - she opened her mouth and no longer bothering with non-verbal spells, she instead sent a strong Expulso towards the Grindylows. The pressure forced the lot of them to let go, and not hesitating for one moment, she sent another Relashio at the one on her stomach. This one too let go, and only one more was holding her, but new ones were seconds away from getting a hold on her. Not giving them another chance, she propelled herself upwards and while shooting towards the surface, she sent one last Relashio at the Grindylow still holding her upper left arm. Grimacing in pain when the Revulsion jinx did not just hit the last nasty creature but also her arm, she realized in pain that that was not her only injury.

Breaking through the surface, Fleur released the Bubble-Head charm. Breathing heavily, she looked around, she was somewhere in the middle of the lake. Not willing to spend one more second in the lake than what was necessary, she used her wand to propel her through the water and quickly made her way towards the shore. Exhausted, she swam the last couple of feet and dragged herself onto the muddy ground. Just pretend this is a mud bath in a spa, she thought, as she rested her painful body on the filthy ground. The idea of a hot and relaxing shower was almost intoxicating. That and some sleep.

Bruised and bleeding from several nasty scratches the long and strong Grindylow fingers had left her - not to mention the mark her own Revulsion jinx had left on her arm - Fleur wearily summoned the towel and clothes she had left near the shoreline before she had jumped in the lake. Staring at the calm surface of the water, she could not believe the attack she had barely escaped. Attacked by creatures you learned about in third year no less.

"Plus jamais." Fleur vowed ferociously and shook her head in disgust. "Never again." Next time those creatures tried to get a hold on her, it wouldn't be their best day.

Then she turned around and dragged her painful body back to the carriage.

Hours later, after Inès and Isabella had helped her more or less patch herself up again, Fleur found herself staring at her plate of food at dinner. She had entered the hall fashionably late, forcing all eyes on her as she had slowly and elegantly - ignoring the desire to limp in pain - made her way towards the Ravenclaw table. Her face was distorted in disgust, as she used her fork to pick through the potatoes and veal. She pricked her fork into a sad piece of broccoli, and held it in front of her face. Glancing at the Gryffindor table to see if Hermione was watching - which she was - she deliberately placed her fork back on her plate and pushed everything away from her body.

"What is 'zis?" She sneered loudly "In France we would not even give 'zis to 'ze chickens."

Next to her, Inès almost choked on her food as she heard Fleur's comment.

"I zought 'zat after being 'ere for almost two months, I would get used to ze 'orrible food. Apparently not." Fleur sighed deeply. "Monsieur Roger, is 'zere a reason for you English to 'ate food?"

Roger Davies, the boy who had tried to get into her good graces for a good part of the time she had spent at Hogwarts, looked up in surprise as Fleur finally gave him her full attention.

"Uhm." He stuttered, clearly shocked by the fact that the stunningly beautiful Fleur Delacour was acknowledging his existence - something she had not done since Halloween. "I don't know."

"I suppose it is not your fault. After all, you can't 'elp it 'zat your house elves can't cook." Fleur smiled at the boy sitting two seats further. "Or decorate, for 'zat matter. If I would start to sum up all the 'orrors in decoration in 'zis room alone, I would not be done by tomorrow evening!"

For the rest of dinner Fleur would - to the amusement of her classmates - sneeringly comment in French on pretty much everything remotely English. Occasionally she would translate, bringing Davies into the conversation and while she made sure he perceived her smile as only for him, her eyes never _really_ left Hermione, who was growing sulkier by the second. Sitting only a table further, Fleur knew the bushy-haired girl could hear everything and while she might not understand the French, the connotations where loud and clear. Fleur smirked, knowing she was getting the effect she wanted. When the final scraps of food had disappeared off the table, she turned her attention back to the Ravenclaw boy.

"Monsieur Davies." She smiled charmingly and stood up from her seat "Would you walk me back to 'ze carriage?"

Without waiting for the dark-haired seventeen-year-old, she started walking towards the exit, still ignoring her painful body. Roger Davies hurried to his feet, completely enthralled by the beauty that was Fleur and almost _ran_ after her. Inès shook her head as she watched her friend go. Sharing a meaningful glance with Isabella, they both silently agreed that it was time to have a chat with Fleur.

Outside the Great Hall, Fleur made her way towards the gate, linking arms with Davies. Cheekily smiling, she stopped walking half way through and looked at him.

"Monsieur Davies" Fleur started.

"Roger." He interrupted her quickly, "Please, call me Roger."

"Roger." Fleur laughed, and she knew that the sound of her laugh was ringing in his ears. "I seem to be wi'zout a date for 'ze Yule Ball."

"Oh." Davies grinned and scratched his head. "Yeah, I've heard something about that."

It was pretty much common knowledge on Hogwarts grounds, that Fleur had yet to chose a date. The quarter-Veela had bluntly, politely or even mockingly - depending on the situation - rejected anyone who had asked her, and as far as the rumour-mill of Hogwarts knew, she hadn't asked anyone herself.

"You see, I 'ave been putting it off, I'm afraid. But now 'ze Ball is getting eerily close." Fleur chuckled and her blue eyes locked with Davies', her hand resting lightly on his arm as she asked "I was wondering if you wanted to come wi'z me."

"Yeah, well..." Roger said with a sad look on his face "I'm sort of already going with someone."

"Oh." Fleur's frowned, and her hand let go of Roger's arm. He rubbed the place where her hand had rested mere seconds ago, and Fleur smirked inwardly, knowing that he was missing her touch. They always did.

"Zat is a pity. I fear I must ask someone else 'zen." Fleur smiled, filled with charm, "Merci, monsieur Davies, for letting me down so easy." She turned around and her hair - not in her usual knot for the sheer sake of this moment - flicked dramatically alongside the motion.

"Wait!" Davies called after her, and Fleur smiled before she turned around again. Three steps, that was all it had taken.

"Of course I'll go with you." Davies said in one breath.

Fleur frowned "But I 'zought you were going wi'z someone already?" Was she pushing it too far? She wasn't even flashing her thrall.

"I'll tell Jessica tonight. She'll understand." Davies assured her quickly and he grinned at her.

"Well, if you are sure, I guess tout est bien." Fleur smiled warmly and slowly kissed him on the cheek, lingering for a moment to make sure he could smell her perfume before she stepped away.

"Yeah.." Davies said, clearly not believing his luck when Fleur walked away.

When Fleur glanced back, right before she walked out of the castle, she could see Hermione standing still next to Harry Potter and the Weasley kid. She smirked as she saw how pale Hermione was when the bushy-haired girl made an almost invisible wand movement.

When she heard the muffled noise of Davies stumbling to the ground thanks to his hexed-together shoelaces, she couldn't hold in a laugh anymore.

Fleur didn't stop grinning all the way to the carriage, Hermione, the ethics-before-all-witch, had hexed a boy out of sheer jealousy. Admittedly, it was an innocent hex, something Fleur had probably done a hundred times, but she was glad to see that Hermione wasn't taking the entire situation too well. Served her right, Fleur thought smugly, ignoring the pang of guilt in her stomach. She missed Hermione.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Looking up from her improvised map of the lake, Fleur saw Inès and Isabella standing in front of her desk. She hadn't heard either of them enter.

"Working on mapping out the lake." Fleur said softly, pointing at the large piece of parchment in front of her. "Pretty much what I've been doing every evening."

"We're not talking about that, Fleur." Isabella sighed, and sat down in one of the armchairs by the fire.

Standing up from behind her desk, Fleur walked over to the small sitting area and dropped inelegantly next to Inès on the couch.

"Then what are you two talking about?" She asked smilingly, but the smile didn't _quite_ reach her eyes.

"You and the fourth year." Inès said slowly.

"Which fourth year?" Fleur asked disinterestedly and pushed a string of blond hair behind her ear. "You mean Hermione? The one from Gryffindor?"

"You haven't really talked to any other fourth years regularly now, have you?" Isabella said.

Fleur smirked: "You two obviously haven't been paying attention. I'm sure I've talked to Harry Potter quite a few times."

"He doesn't count."

"Well, I don't think mister Potter would like to hear _that._" Fleur grinned.

"Stop it." said Inès harshly. "Don't you think we wouldn't notice you sneaking out to go on dates with that girl?"

"Hermione?" asked Fleur innocently, staring at Isabella, who was staying suspiciously quiet.

"Oui. Hermione."

"Well, I think I have the right to have some fun, even if I'm defending the school's honour." Fleur laughed again.

"Fun? To us it seemed like you were quite serious about her." Isabella joined in. "We're not fools, Fleur, we see things. And lately it seems like you've been acting out because of her. What happened? Did you two break up?"

"Oh come on." Fleur frowned in annoyance and stood up from the couch. "You thought she was _special? _You've seen me do this a hundred times before. It was just a_ fling_. I was just having _fun_."

"You're generally not this vengeful over your - as you call it - flings." Inès waved Fleur's argument away. "You're not as obnoxious as you want people to see you."

"Allez! I thought you were my friends." Fleur laughed loudly "I thought you _knew _me. I'm Fleur Delacour, the ice-Veela. I play with people's feelings just because I can, remember?"

"That's not true." Isabella frowned.

"Quoi? Didn't you read that article?" Fleur chuckled. "Rumours exist for a reason. Look, you don't have to worry about me. I'm just bored."

"Fleur.."

"I'm going for another swim in the lake, after those stupid creatures attacked me I didn't get the chance to explore what I wanted."

Isabella frowned "It's dark outside. You won't be able to see a thing."

"Maybe the task is at night, mes amies! I better practice!" Fleur laughed loudly and grabbed her bag with swimming material right before she walked out the door, leaving her two friends sitting quietly by the fireplace. They better be gone by the time she returned, Fleur wasn't up for another conversation like that one.

Quickly she left the carriage, Isabella was right, it was dark outside, but Fleur didn't care. Walking rapidly towards the side of the lake, she ignored the soft rain falling down on her.

"Delacour!" Someone called after her.

Putain, what was it with everyone today? Couldn't they simply leave her alone?

Turning around to see who it was, she frowned as she recognized Jacques Gaillard walking up to her. What on earth did _he _want.

"Delacour, wait up." Gaillard called again.

Stoically, Fleur waited until the pureblood had caught up with her. Her face showed nothing but disinterest. "What is it, Gaillard?" She asked in annoyance. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Busy with what?" He frowned, but his eyes were filled with sincere interest, which was not something Fleur was used to seeing in the pureblood's eyes. And he had a point, they _were _standing in an empty field of grass.

"Busy with being by myself." Fleur snapped for lack of a better answer. "Hurry up, I don't have all evening."

"Right." Gaillard said, momentarily distracted, "I wanted to ask you something."

Fleur sighed impatiently. "Quoi?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Ball with me." Gaillard asked nervously. "I know we haven't gotten off on the right foot but - "

"You must be joking." Fleur cut him off, and shook her head incredulously.

He wasn't though. Fleur stared at the pureblood in disbelief for a few seconds, and then started laughing loudly.

"What on _earth _made you think I'd be willing to go with _you?_" Fleur sneered.

"Well, I was hoping - "

"You _humiliated_ me." Fleur said in a voice dripping with disdain "You told that _horrible woman _about me."

"I admit that might have been a mistake but - "

"A _mistake_?" Fleur laughed in disbelief.

"Je suis désolé." Gaillard lifted his hands in a gesture of peace at Fleur's harsh reaction. "Look, I was wrong okay, you rejected me so harshly before and I was just .. hurt. It was petty. And I'm sorry."

"You think an apology will make things right again?" Fleur mocked Gaillard loudly. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. What else was this week going to throw at her? Pudding? "I wouldn't be willing to go out with you even if they put a wand to my head."

Fleur took a little step closer to Gaillard and smiled coldly at him. She stretched out her hands and carefully adjusted his tie. "I would _never _ go out with someone like _you_." She whispered barely audible and the air was crackling around them with her thrall.

She let go of his tie and smirked. Then, she turned around and started walking toward the lake again. With every step she took, it was more difficult to swallow away her tears. _Hermione._

**HERMIONE (Girl's Dormitories, 25th of December, 5.12 p.m.)**

With a thundering blow the hexed snowball hit the window next to Hermione's bed and she could only sigh. She should never have shown Ronald how to hex a snowball, things were getting out of hand fast. A second snowball slammed into the still vibrating window and knowing Ron, more would soon follow.

Sighing in annoyance, she opened the window and with a jab of her wand and some mumbled words, she reversed the rapidly approaching snowball in its trajectory. With a smug smile on her face, she closed the window again after the ball had hit Ron right in the face. She had - after all - warned the boys about leaving her alone.

"I can't find my shoes." Ginny was scowling when she entered the - except for Hermione - empty fourth year dormitory. "I've looked everywhere, they are gone - gone I tell you!"

"You could always go barefoot." Hermione remarked absentmindedly, and stared at the periwinkle blue dressrobes currently resting on her bed.

"Who am I? Luna Lovegood?" Ginny scowled and dropped on Hermione's bed. "Can I borrow one of your pairs?"

"Who? And mind the dress, Ginevra." Hermione frowned and rather than risking imminent ruin, she picked it up and hung it by her dresser. "Besides, you're asking the wrong person. I don't really have any nice shoes but the pair I'm going to wear tonight."

"Always the practical one, aren't you." Ginny said in exasperation. "Well, as we have established, I can't ask Luna and I can't ask you, because you _don't do nice shoes_, so what am I going to do now?"

"Search for your shoes some more, I guess." Hermione shrugged and kept focusing on the dress. It had cost her a fair bit, but it was every bit as beautiful as it had been when she bought it. Her hand went over the soft material, careful not to crumple it before the Ball.

"Spiffing." Ginny sighed, then she raised an eyebrow. "Why are you already in here? The Ball doesn't start for another couple of hours, you know."

"The same reason that you are already looking for your shoes." Hermione said disinterestedly "I don't want to mess tonight up."

"Because - you know - you haven't done that already?" Ginny retorted with a sharp tongue.

The dark look in Hermione's eyes made Ginny burst out in laughter - it was a look she knew well; most of the time aimed at her brother - and Hermione simply shook her head in response, grabbing the large bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion off her nightstand.

"Let's do this." She muttered under her breath and walked over to the shared bathroom adjoining the dormitory. She'd read about the hair potion in a copy of Lavender's _Witch Weekly, _a magazine generally found all over the fourth year dormitory - much to Hermione's dismay - but as much as she loathed to admit it, she'd read it every so often.

Ginny quickly grabbed the towel hanging over the side of the bedpost, and followed Hermione into the bathroom. "I still don't see why you would to this." Ginny raised an eyebrow and ruffled her hand through Hermione's hair. "I quite like your curls."

"And you are about the only one, Ginny." Hermione dismissed her and dodged Ginny's hand in her hair, but the smile tugging at her mouth showed that she appreciated the compliment. She reached over and grabbed the showerhead, then Hermione leant over the side so only her hair would get wet and turned on the water. Only to step back mere seconds later. Shaking her head in annoyance, she mentally scolded herself, after four years, she still seemed to forget that the water was freezing cold for the first twenty seconds.

"The only one? I'm darn sure Fleur loves them curls more than I do." Ginny spoke lightly and hopped on the side of one of the sinks.

"Well, thank Merlin I'm not going with Fleur then." Hermione joked uneasily, right before she stuck her head under the by now comfortably warm stream of water. "Meaning I'm going for sleek."

"Yes. Thank Merlin you are not going with Fleur." Ginny said ironically "We'd miss out on so much drama if you would just go with the damn girl."

The stream of water sent her way by Hermione made Ginny hop off the side of the sink in laughter and hide for a second outside of the bathroom. When Hermione was done spraying water all over the place, she entered again.

"Just let it go already." Hermione said while massaging the shampoo into her hair. "It's much easier this way."

"For you or for Fleur?"

"For everyone." Hermione shrugged, and rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. "Can you hand me that Sleekeazy's hair stuff? "

"Yes. It is indeed much easier for Ronald, not knowing you can get the girl but he can't. " Ginny chuckled and handed Hermione the bottle. "So how does that potion work?"

"I'm guessing it's like muggle conditioner. But magical." Hermione opened the bottle - still hanging over the side of the shower so that only her hair would get wet - and poured a rather generous amount of the pink potion over her head. "I didn't quite read the side of the bottle, I'm afraid."

Faking shock, Ginny held a hand in front of her open mouth. "No! What is wrong with you?!"

"Don't fuss, Ginny." Hermione laughed and tried applying the potion on every string of her immense bush of hair.

"Well, thanks to all those times my mother tried to form me into a _proper_ lady, I actually know what to do next." Ginny grimaced at the thought of Molly Weasley coming after her with a hairbrush, and spread the towel over Hermione's shoulders. "You need to let it work in."

Reaching over, Ginny turned off the water, and together with a dripping Hermione walked out of the bathroom and sat back down on the bed.

"So. I guess you are really going to do this?" Ginny asked slowly, still questioning if the whole Yule Ball was a good idea.

"Yes." Hermione nodded in affirmation. "I can't quite back out now, can I?"

"True." Ginny sighed. "But this is a bomb waiting to explode, honey."

"Then let it explode." Hermione laughed it off. "It won't be that spectacular."

"I'm not so sure about that." Ginny frowned deeply "Have you _seen _Fleur these days?"

"Ginny." Hermione said down-right dismissively "Let it go. I'm going with Viktor and I'm going to have a good time."

"But _why_?" Ginny tried one last time. "I know he's charming and all that, but dear lord woman, you are head over heels for Fleur, not mister Super Seeker!"

"Because Fleur is trying to get a rise out of me. Like she has been doing all week. And I'm not going to let her spoil my evening."

Hermione stood up and went back to the bathroom where she washed out the remainder of the potion. Grabbing the towel again, she started drying her hair. Once she figured it was dry enough, she glanced at the mirror and promptly lowered the towel in surprise.

"Viktor is one lucky Triwizard Champion." Ginny said softly from the door opening. "You look absolutely stunning." The redhead walked over to Hermione and smiled while patting her friend on the back.

"And I'm not even wearing my dress yet." Hermione laughed, plucking at her rather inelegant shirt coupled with her pyjama-bottoms.

"Even if you went like this, all eyes would be on you." Ginny grinned. "I have to say, I like the wild bush of hair - I really do - but this is something else."

"Not something I'm willing to do every day though. Besides, that hair potion is ridiculously expensive." Hermione remarked and walked toward her dresser. Taking off the periwinkle dress, she smiled. "Can you believe I'm actually looking forward to tonight? I need a bit of mindless fun."

"I wouldn't exactly call Krum mindless, honey. I heard he's somewhere around third in his class, and like a prodigy in duelling." Ginny said. "Anyhow. I'm going to look for my shoes again. I really can't do without. How else will I survive Neville?" She dramatically tap-danced her way across the dormitory, causing Hermione to grin in response.

"Poor you." Hermione said. "I heard he's trying his best though."

"Obviously he is, he's a nice enough boy." Ginny sighed deeply "If only Harry had asked me sooner."

Surprised, Hermione turned around to stare at Ginny. "He what?"

"Yes." Ginny nodded. "But only out of sheer desperation for not finding anyone else."

"Would you have said yes if Neville hadn't asked you already? Knowing it was out of _sheer desperation_?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"And putting aside all of my self-respect? Honey, don't you know me yet?" Ginny grinned. "Of course I would have said yes!"

The redhead turned around laughingly and walked out of the dormitory to continue her search for the shoes, leaving her friend shaking her head while smiling.

High time to get ready.

Half an hour before the Yule Ball was about to start, Hermione sneaked out of the Gryffindor tower - after forcing Lavender for once not to tell Parvati about her transformation; it was a surprise after all - to go out to the Durmstrang ship, where she had agreed to meet Viktor. She smiled warmly as she remembered how he had graciously offered to come and pick her up at the entrance to the Common Room. He was a lot more considerate than she had expected him to be. But, that would ruin the surprise, so she had told him she would come to him.

Outside the castle it was freezing, and Hermione found herself wishing she had brought something vaguely resembling a cardigan. Rubbing her arms to keep warm, she glanced sideways at the Beauxbatons Carriage. Instead of going right - as she had always done to meet Fleur - she went left. Swallowing away the nervousness, she tried to remind herself why this was a good idea again.

Her mind was blank. She simply couldn't remember.

How did it all end up like this, she wondered. Fleur going with that git of a Davies, and she going with Krum. As she walked ever closer to the Durmstrang ghost ship, she couldn't help but think how different this night would have been if she would have been going with Fleur; how shocked her friends would have been, but also how much she would have loved to dance with Fleur.

"Hermy-own."

The voice coming from the deck of the ship almost made her jump up in surprise.

"Hi Viktor." Hermione smiled and careful not to fall into the water, she walked up the gangway to the ship, accepting his stretched out hand to aid her on board.

"Good evening." Krum smiled lightly, leant forward and kissed her on the cheek as a greeting. "You look absolutely beautiful."

Hermione blushed at his greeting, before telling him that he looked quite nicely himself in his stylish black dressrobes with blood red accents - like his bowtie - to accentuate him being a Durmstrang student. His dark hair had been cut a little shorter and he had shaved off the stubble he generally had.

"Do you vant to come inside before we go to the castle?" He asked, waving towards an entrance leading into the ship. "I'm afraid my headmaster is still not finished fixing his hair." He said with noticeable distaste.

Chuckling at the idea of Karkaroff in front of a mirror, Hermione followed Viktor into the ship down a flight of stairs. At the end of the stairs, Hermione's mouth dropped at the sight of the immense wooden hall built along the lines of Nordic traditions. It was filled with long wooden benches and tables, the walls draped with rich tapestries and there was a warm fire burning in the middle. Somehow, this was not what she had in mind whenever she had thought about the Durmstrang Ship. As shoddy as it looked on the outside, as magnificent it was on the inside.

"Impressive, right?" Viktor grinned. "I alvays like the look on people's faces vhen they step in here for the first time."

"Yes." Hermione said rather flabbergasted and started to walk around, stretching her neck to see every detail of the hall. "This is amazing!"

Viktor Krum chuckled, and went with a hand through his freshly cut hair. "Ah, before I forget." He said, turning around and picking a paper bag off the table.

"Merry Christmas." He smiled and held out the bag to her "I am so sorry that it is not gift vrapped. It only arrived by ovl this morning.."

"Oh.." Hermione said and accepted the gift, peeking inside the bag, she fished out a fine silk scarf of a slightly darker colour blue than her dress. "Viktor, ... you shouldn't have." She said shocked while holding the fine material in her hands.

He laughed and took the scarf out of her hand, and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I know, but I vanted to."

Stunned, Hermione clasped the material together with her right hand. "I didn't get you anything.." She said slightly embarrassed.

"That's okay." Viktor spoke lightly, and crumbled the paper bag up in a ball, before throwing into the fireplace and sending her a charming smile. "You didn't have to, you going to the ball vith me is present enough."

Again, a blush crept onto Hermione's cheeks.

Viktor was anything but the grumpy and sullen Quidditch hero she'd thought he was. He was charming, smart and for the half hour that they had to wait for Karkaroff to finally appear out of his chambers - the central hall of the ship was by now filled to the brim with waiting Durmstrang students and their dates - he had made her feel at ease with the idea of going to the ball with him.

When the headmaster finally made his entrance, Hermione linked arms with Viktor, and together with the rest of the Durmstrang delegation they walked towards the castle. Secretly, she was really happy with the scarf. Not only was it top notch material, it was also perfect against the cold weather outside. Still, she shivered.

"Are you cold, Hermy-own?" Viktor asked politely, noticing how she clung to the scarf to keep her warm.

"Just a tad." She smiled at her date. "But we'll be inside in no time, so no need to worry."

"If you say so." He frowned, "Are you ready?" Viktor asked softly once they were at the gates to the castle.

Hermione swallowed and nodded. She was.

With a bored flick of the headmasters wand, the doors to the castle opened, and the Durmstrang students walked in.

"Viktor!" Karkaroff called. "You go stand with the champions, I will go on ahead with the rest."

Viktor nodded and with a slight nudge ushered Hermione to come with him. "The hall looks beautiful.." He mumbled, impressed by the decorations and Hermione smiled. Fleur never thought the decorations were beautiful. She had made that _very _clear during the past week.

She nodded as a way of hello towards Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory, who were patiently waiting beside the doors to the Great Hall. When her eyes linked with Harry's she almost started laughing at the look of shock in his eyes. His jaw dropped.

He was standing next to Parvati, and she too looked at Hermione in complete surprise. She made a mental note to thank Lavender. The girl had - for once - kept her mouth shut.

"Hi, Harry!" she said nervously "Hi, Parvati!"

"Hello.." Harry gaped at her, and she was tempted to shove him.

But then his eyes - like those of everyone else in the entrance hall - flickered to somewhere behind her, and she turned around to see what the fuss was about.

It was Fleur.

* * *

**A/N: I know I promised this chapter would be about the Yule Ball, and in essence I started on it already in this one. But when I started writing it turned out I had still so much more to tell. So next chapter will be The Yule Ball Part II, and will be about just that night. Estimated upload time: 14 days maximum.**


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